


Walls Never Built or Broken

by Masian (salable_mystic)



Series: Walls Never Built or Broken [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-05
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salable_mystic/pseuds/Masian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the 2006 vo_xmas exchange, prompt: Viggo and Orlando end up working together for first time since Rings. They were friends in NZ, but nothing more and lost touch after filming ended. Now they rediscover their friendship and fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jule1122](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jule1122).



> Disclaimer: Don't know the guys, don't actually think they're in a relationship. This takes place in a strange parallel universe two degrees to the left of ours. (Or, in other words: It is FICTION!)

One

  
Viggo Mortensen sat on his back patio with the warm autumn sun shining down on him, warming his back and playing over the pages of the script that was spread on the garden table in front of him. He seemed to be studying it pensively, though his eyes held a faraway look. And as he was not reading the text at all, he didn't notice when the gusty autumn wind toyed with the pages and turned another one over. He had read the script, more than once, and was pondering whether to accept the role he had been offered.

Up until this offer had come, he had more or less decided that he was done with filming - he'd acted in enough movies and made enough money that he could sit back and turn all his attention to his art and photography. He could let younger and more ambitious actors -- actors more willing to play along with Hollywood -- take over.

However, this script intrigued him, plus he would be getting the chance to help some old friends. And it was a story worth telling, something that sounded like he would be happy to be involved in its creation.

Of money, there would be very little, but then that had rarely featured heavily in his decisions. No, this was a small independent production, something one only got involved in if one's heart was in it, not something to do for the sake of money.

Also, he would be fulfilling an old promise, made almost 15 years ago, on a drunken night in New Zealand. He had promised Dom and Billy then that if they ever wrote a script and turned it into a movie, and if there was a part in the story for him and he would feel comfortable with taking it, he would do so. And now here was a script and a part that blatantly called to him, reflecting so much of what he cared for and had faced in life.

He leaned back in his chair, sighing. The years had been kind to him, overall, he thought. After Lord of the Rings, things had just gone crazy for a while, with role after role being offered to him, film after film shot and then, the Oscar nomination for A History of Violence. He had been choosy about what movies he did even then, and he had only become more discerning as his fame and publicity increased. It had only been since the years he consciously took off from filming that things had shrunk down to proportions where he was more comfortable. He was no longer photographed as soon as he went anywhere, no longer asked for his autograph wherever he went, and he relished the freedom this brought him.

He was also growing old, he acknowledged ruefully. While 56 wasn't exactly old-old, neither was it young anymore, nor even what Hollywood so kindly called 'in his prime.'

No, he was glad to live his life of comparative obscurity, and to let others reap the fame and big bucks.

But - he looked down at the script in front of him again - doing this project? It called to him, the part called to him, and the whole production called to him.

‘Why the hell not?’ he thought. It wasn't as if he was needed here, with Henry long since moved out. Yes, he'd simply pack up his things and go to England for a month or two, to see some old friends and act in their movie. It felt like the right thing to do. Yes, if he could help two old friends by lending a bit of Academy Award glitz to their independent project AND get to play an interesting role in an intriguing movie, it was definitely worth breaking self-imposed retirement from the movie industry.

God knows he had a reputation as being eccentric and unpredictable, so who would be surprised?

He grinned and reached for the phone, determined to wake up some former Hobbits with the good news.

***

  
London in October was definitely not the world's most appealing place to be, Viggo thought, as he gazed out of the window of the cab into the grey drizzle. Traffic was heavy and there was no telling how long the journey from the airport to the hotel was going to take. Thirty minutes, if traffic went well, he had been told. But traffic was not flowing much at all, and he'd already been in the cab for more than the allotted time. He watched the other cars crawling by, content to be watching the traffic and the world outside. He had time, and studying pedestrians proved to be quite the entertaining pastime. He'd always been fascinated by mankind and its individual representatives, and this was no different. He watched lovers holding hands, happy and smiling, not bothered by the grey weather. Old people walking the street alone, bent down by the flow of years and their cares. People sitting in doorways, with cups in front of them, begging for money or just a glance of recognition, a glance that confirmed their status as human beings, as members of society. People hurrying along, clutching folders and laptop bags.

He watched the busses pass by, too, and had to smile at some that carried movie advertisements, advertisements that had Orlando's face gazing down at him seriously. Of all of the members of the fellowship, Orlando was probably the one who had gone on to shine the brightest. The years and life had not always been kind to him, with his sudden rise to fame, marriage and divorce a few years later. He had a daughter, Viggo knew, who should be six or seven years old by now. Divorce and bad press for his movies had hit Orlando hard, and for a while they had all been worried about him. But he had come out of it shining brighter and more determined and far more mature than before, and had gone on to finally give performances that dazzled both his critics and his fans. Orlando had moved on to play serious, character-driven roles, Viggo knew, and that pleased him no end. Orlando was such a warm and open person; he deserved to finally be appreciated for his talent.

They had always stayed in touch, the members of The Fellowship, even though life had seen them follow very different paths. They'd not always been close and had sometimes not seen each other for years, but they'd always somehow heard news about each other and supported each other at crucial moments of their lives, one or the other always showing up when he was needed.

Of them all, Viggo was probably closest to Sean Bean, with them being of similar age and status. Billy and Dom had always stayed very close, engaging in projects together, and he knew that Elijah and Orlando had kept in fairly close contact. At least, he got most of his news about Orlando from Elijah, so that is what he assumed. With a start, Viggo realised that he had not seen or spoken to Orlando in almost four years. Not since the sad day of Ian's funeral, he realised.

Orlando had been strangely distant and hesitant then, still getting over his failed marriage and involved in a custody battle for his little daughter. He'd been awkward around them, unsure of what to say or how close to get, and had not stayed long.

Viggo shook his head. No use dwelling on those memories now. He'd pump Billy and Dom for news of Orlando - they still saw Elijah regularly and were bound to know more than he did, isolated as he had been – isolated by his own choice, but isolated nonetheless.

It startled Viggo when the cab pulled into the driveway of the hotel where he was staying. He had lost track of time, lost in memories and recollections of the past. He got out of the cab, paid the driver and carried his luggage into the hotel. He'd be meeting Billy and Dom here tomorrow, to talk more about the project. Then they'd be all off to Scotland soon, where most of the film would be shot. It was getting dark and he was tired and looking forward to an early night. Damned jetlag - it always got him, no matter how often he travelled.

Two

  
Billy and Dom were as lively and energetic as ever, Viggo realised soon after walking into the suite where they were meeting. Or, he would have walked into it, anyway, if he had not been tackled by a firm Hobbit-hug the minute he stepped through the door. Startled, he met Dom's smiling eyes: "Hey, mad Dane! It's good to see you!!" Dom said, grinning widely. Viggo grinned back. "And you, Dom! And you," Viggo said as he returned the embrace, glad to be seeing his friend again.

From the other side of the table, Billy quickly came over to the door to embrace Viggo as soon as Dom released him. "Man-who-would-be-king!" Viggo smiled at the greeting, feeling a small tug at his heart at hearing again after so many years a phrase that Orlando had coined.

"Hey, fool of a Took!" Billy's smile was just as charming as ever, and it made Viggo remember how young and crazy they had all been in New Zealand. He stepped back and grinned at the two. "So, here I am. Now convince me again why I am taking part in this mad venture?"

Dom grinned, "Because you love us, old man!" Billy elbowed him in the side, interrupting him. "And because it is going to be fucking fantastic!"

Dom nodded, "Aye, that too, of course."

"Fucking fantastic, huh?" Viggo grinned back, "Well, I must admit the rough draft of a script you sent me sounded pretty good. What changes have you made to it?"

"Well, sit down, man, and we'll tell you!" Dom gestured to the table where the two of them had apparently been hard at work, if the amount of paper strewn over it was any indication. "We've had to make several revisions, due to some changes in who is available to play in the movie and who had to cancel...I think you will be pleased with the changes we made, though!" He smiled mischievously and gestured to a chair, holding a colourful copy of a script out to Viggo, with the different colour paper indicating the different drafts.

They all sat down and Billy continued, "We're just about ready to do a final talk-through – just in time, too, what with shooting scheduled for next week. Now, here's the changes…let us know what you think..."

And with that, the meeting began, the three of them soon in a heated and passionate discussion of the vision of a movie.

***

  
"So, who is going to play my romantic interest?" Viggo asked some time later, perusing the draft in front of him.

He looked up when only silence greeted his answer, "Guys? Something you want to tell me?"

The manic grin that Dom sported worried him a bit, and the tone in which Billy replied wasn't quite bound to let him rest easy, either: "Actually, we don't know yet."

"You don't know yet?"

"No, we don't. Oh, we know someone we'd really like to have, but we need to see if his schedule works out and all. If not, Elijah said we should call him and he'd come over to help out . . . but . . ."

"Elijah?" Viggo was startled. He liked Elijah, a lot in fact, but he was not who Viggo would have cast as his opposite if he had been in charge of casting the movie.

From the hesitation in Billy and Dom's reply, neither were they. The character needed someone more – well, manly. Viggo thought, someone taller and more graceful, was needed to make the story work.

"So, this is the script?" he asked, closing the folder in front of him.

"For now, yeah," Billy shrugged. "We have some alternative drafts depending on who actually ends up being available next week and the week after."

Dom grimaced "Yeah, this has turned into something that's totally developed its own momentum. But what can you do, hey, when you basically go and ask your friends to come act for you and film for you, in their free time and with no money to be made?"

Viggo grinned back at them "It'll be fun, guys. And your script is great. Really deep and all that jazz."

And it was, too, he though. Despite surface appearances that might miscast it as a comedy, there was a lot of depth and tragedy infused in the story.

His character was going to be the sort of connecting character in an episodic script that told the story of the lives of a couple of members of a suburban community as reflected and told to the owner of a pub. He played the pub owner, a displaced American drifter who had left his country as a protest to the politics and values that were rising there. He also got his own side storyline, falling in love with a patron of his pub. Other storylines dealt with a former soldier traumatised by the war, characters suspected of espionage, the vagaries of love in time of terrorism, but always with love as the connecting point between them all. It reminded him a bit of another British film he had seen years and years ago that had always remained with him. Only this one was going to be a lot more critical and political than that basically feel-good Christmas movie he had seen back then.

What he also liked was that Billy and Dom had so far not shown him the end of the script. They were, from what he gathered, still not done with writing it - he had no idea if he was going to get a happy ending or not - from what he had seen it could go either way, and that was what they wanted in his character, the mix of hope and anxiety.

"So, you guys are off to Scotland tomorrow?"

Billy nodded. "Yeah. Gotta spend some time finalising the setup. You staying here?"

Viggo nodded. "Yes, I am going to meet Sean for a day or two. Catch up and stuff."

Billy nodded. "Cool! Say hello from us, yeah, and let him know that if he wants to come along..."

Viggo laughed heartily, "At this rate, the whole thing is going to turn into a Lord of the Rings reunion, guys!"

Billy and Dom laughed as well. "Nah, no evil ring in the script," Billy replied. "Only making use of the friends we have." He grinned.

Viggo shook his head. At the rate they were going, this might be the one independent movie that had a cast to make mainstream studios cry. But who could resist Hobbit charm? Oh yes, it was going to be interesting.

***

  
Visiting Sean had been fun. They'd spent their evenings cruising pubs, two old-ish men content to sit in the shadows and watch the world pass by them – and to make sarcastic comments about it, of course. They had laughed so much that their stomachs hurt and they had to drink another shot of whisky to alleviate the pain. Or something. Yes, they had definitely drunk too much.

Sharing stories with Sean had been good. They'd kept up with one another over the years, but hanging out together for a weekend with nothing to do was a rare treat for them.

Sean, unfortunately, had to fly out to a shoot right after the weekend, so he was unable to participate in Billy and Dom's movie. He sent his regrets and a "You're mad, wankers!" message with Viggo, and firm instructions to make note of all embarrassing stories, to be related to him immediately.

Soon Viggo found himself checking into a small hotel in Glasgow on his own, dumping his bag on the bed and wondering who might already have arrived that he could drag out for an early dinner. Not coming up with any immediate victims, he grabbed his camera and sketchbook and headed out on his own, deciding to spend the evening people watching.

Three

  
Filming had been going well. Billy and Dom had already started with some of the individual story lines. Viggo had only been involved in a couple of scenes so far, but the atmosphere of the shoot already felt good and comfortable. He did not know most of the people involved in the shoot, not personally anyway, but they were a friendly lot and he gathered that they'd all at one point or another been involved in a project with Billy or Dom and were friends of one or the both of them. Max Pirkin, who played the main character of one of the episodic stories, had apparently become a friend of Billy’s when he was filming "Master and Commander," then playing a young Midshipman. He'd turned into a tall and gangly lad now and seemed to know what he was doing - Viggo thought he filled out the role he had been given really well and the scenes they had had together had gone smoothly.

Apparently the situation of Viggo's love interest was on the way to being resolved, though he still did not know who it might be. Max had told him that he thought that Billy had asked Paul Bettany if he would like to be involved, but did not know what the answer had been. If this was true, Viggo thought, then it might work out well - Paul had not been blessed with good luck, moviewise, in the last years, but from the movies Viggo had seen Paul might fit in here well.

He'd undoubtedly find out soon, Viggo thought, given that scenes when they would need someone playing the character were on the call sheets for two days from now.

***

  
Viggo lay back on the bed in his hotel room, drowsing, knowing he should get up and take off his clothes so he could get into bed and fall asleep, but he was reluctant to do so. He felt full and lazy, replete after the dinner he had shared with some of the members of the cast. This was definitely turning into a sort of working holiday for all of them, and they were having a good time.

A knock sounded on his door and he was almost inclined to ignore it, he was so drowsy. The knock sounded again and he rolled to the side of the bed, swinging his bare feet down so they touched the carpeted floor. "Yes, yes. I am coming. Who is it?"

He ran his hand through his hair and shuffled to the door.

"The love of your life, of course!" a voice he had not heard in a long time replied from the other side of the door. Viggo opened it quickly and blinked into the bright light of the corridor, gazing at the man across from him in astonishment. The man, who was wearing a crazy smile on his face, swept his arms out in an expansive gesture, bowing gracefully.

Viggo couldn't help laughing at the display. His gaze met the sparkling eyes across from him and he felt the strangest sensation pass through him, as if his life had stopped for a second and then started up again, following a slightly different path.

"Orlando?" he asked, baffled.

Orlando was still grinning madly, happiness at being there apparent in his face and bearing. "Surprise!"

"Surprise, indeed!" Viggo stepped forward and gathered Orlando in a hug that was returned enthusiastically. He then held Orlando at arms distance, firmly grasping his shoulders, "It's fantastic to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Orlando rolled his eyes and swatted Viggo on the arm with one hand, "The same thing you are, you daft git! Dom. . .Billy. . . movie? Ring any bells?"

Viggo loosened his grasp on Orlando's arms, reluctant to let him go. "Distant ones, yeah."

"Good thing I am here to refresh your memory, then, given the fact that we're going to be filming together tomorrow!"

Viggo suddenly noticed that they were still standing in the rather unattractive corridor of the hotel, "You wanna come in? I have beer, if you'd like one."

Orlando nodded. "Would love to. Not too long, though. I am knackered from the trip here, but definitely would love a beer."

He followed Viggo into the room and looked around at the clutter that made the room unquestionably Viggo's. Some things, it seemed, didn't change. He smiled again, and added, more softly, "Man, but it IS good to see you. It's been far too long."

Viggo turned from where he had been rummaging in the room’s small ‘fridge. "And you." He stepped forward, forward until he stood right in Orlando's space, and gently bumped their foreheads together.

Orlando grinned and returned the gesture, bringing his hands up to cradle Viggo's neck. This was their gesture. Had become their gesture since that day in New Zealand when Sala, on Viggo's behest, almost knocked Orlando out in a too enthusiastic head-bump. Viggo was grinning, too, he noticed. Bloody hell, but it was good to see him. How had they managed to lose track of each other for so long?

After a minute or two, Viggo reluctantly stepped back and held a bottle of cold beer out to his friend. "Sit down," he gestured at the one free chair in the room and sat down on the bed himself.

Orlando twisted the cap off his bottle and took a deep swallow from it, relaxing into the chair Viggo had indicated. He toed his shoes off and noticed Viggo watching him do it. This, too, was one of the things he'd learned from Viggo: The pleasure of walking on bare feet.

Viggo watched Orlando with a smile, mentally taking note of what was different and what had remained unchanged. He'd grown older, of course, had filled out his spare frame, and maturity and confidence had given him a different air from the one he'd had in New Zealand. This was no young boy startled by his sudden fame, this was an experienced, successful actor sure of his craft and his accomplishments. The sparkle in his eyes when he smiled a true smile and the expansive grin were still the same, though, as was the way he slouched into a chair, completely at ease in the company he was in. Viggo was glad that Orlando was able to relax around him so automatically.

He scooted back until he was leaning against the headboard and looked at Orlando curiously: "So, you're here for the film. Obviously." He grinned at Orlando. "But, knowing I am dense and all..." Orlando rolled his eyes in mute agreement and Viggo paused to throw a cushion at him, which Orlando caught easily, "Who do you play?"

Orlando frowned a mock frown, "See, you still don't listen to me. I told you already." At Viggo's confused look, he rolled his eyes again and continued "Daniel. The love of your life? Hello?"

Viggo looked at him, flabbergasted. Orlando was playing Daniel? But he'd thought Paul...then he had to smile. So, that was why Billy and Dom had been making such mysterious airs. And he had to admit, the casting was pretty darn perfect. And getting Orlando to act in this movie was a major success for the two guys. It definitely paid to have friends who went on to make something of themselves, it seemed.

He realised that Orlando was looking at him curiously, waiting for a reply but content to wait - Orlando knew that Viggo rarely said something without thinking about it first, and processing this obviously took some time, judging by the thoughts changing themselves across Viggo's face.

Orlando was relieved when Viggo's face cleared and he grinned at him. Orlando felt the faint tension he’d been holding about how Viggo might react to the news, that small fear that Viggo might not want to act with him again – silly thoughts he had not even been really aware of having - slip away at Viggo's grin and reply.

"Great! That's fantastic! Have you seen the latest draft of the script?"

Orlando nodded, "Yeah, they emailed it to me yesterday. All except the end. Do you know...?"

Viggo shook his head, "No. They’re not done with it yet, apparently."

Orlando sighed, "I thought it might be something like that. Damn it, I really hope our two guys make it and stay together. It's such a sweet and sad story..."

Viggo had to hide a smile at Orlando's reaction. Another thing had not changed. This was till the old romantic, his Orlando.

"Sweet, huh? Just wait until I snog your brains out in front of the camera! Then you'll call it something other than sweet!"

Orlando sputtered, then narrowed his eyes at Viggo. Trust the man to turn everything into a crazy challenge. "Is that a challenge, old man? I'll show you whose brains shall be out-snogged, then! You won't remember your dialogue for at least a minute when I am through with you."

Viggo laughed at Orlando's mock outrage and the mischievous light in those dark eyes. Poor Billy and Dom, they'd never know what had hit them - or what had become of their scene. Oh yes, the challenge was definitely on.

Orlando saw the expression in Viggo's eyes and grinned. The challenge seemed to be on. Oh yes, but it was good to be filming with Viggo again.

Four

  
It was definitely good to be filming with Viggo again, Orlando thought again half a day later. He was sitting in a camping chair with the Dane slouched in the one next to him, both of them watching the scene they had just done on the monitor in front of him. No kissing yet, but he could almost feel the sparks fly between the two characters, the attraction kindled. The scene had turned out fantastic, if he said so himself, and from the looks on Billy and Dom's faces, they definitely agreed.

He still felt the sparks, now, minutes after they finished touching and back in his own headspace, no longer playing Daniel, who was attracted to Mike. He was Orlando, friend of Viggo. Well…attracted to Viggo, if he was honest. He had always been attracted to Viggo, really, from the moment he first saw him in New Zealand. They'd had that thing going between them. He'd never done anything about it, chose to ignore it, to remain friends and nothing more, but he'd definitely been aware of a certain spark between them, of the attraction. Orlando sometimes wondered if Viggo had felt it too, and where they would be now if they had acted upon it, wondered what his life would have been like. Very different, that was certain. And now the sparks were back, with a intensity they'd not had since New Zealand, if even then. But he rationalised that that probably came from playing Viggo's lover, from getting to touch him, and imagining what they might be like together. He wondered if Viggo felt the same thing.

***

  
Viggo was watching the screen in front of him, astounded by the way he and Orlando acted together, how well they fit together, even on the second take of the scene, with no read-through at all and only one rehearsal. They both knew what they were doing, of course, but this was somehow more than two experienced actors working well with one another. This almost seemed like a blending of their art, their craft, into something that was more than they were when taken separately. From the entranced look he had seen on Billy's face right after he called cut, Billy had felt it, too. Had seen it. And from the grin now on Billy's face, the guy was clearly happy with his casting choices. As he should be, Viggo thought. That was one lucky stroke indeed. Even he felt it. And from the enthralled look on Orlando's face as he was watching the scene on the monitor, he felt it, too. Felt the magic on screen and maybe even the attraction and pull that was already sparking between them, much the same way it had in New Zealand, back when they had first met.

Viggo had never acted on it, but he had always wondered what it might have been like... He shook himself. What was he thinking? This was just Mike being attracted to Daniel, and Viggo slipping too much into the character he was playing. There was nothing between him and Orlando. Attraction, maybe, but there had never been anything else, nor would there ever be. And he was going to have to kiss him, too! Well, Daniel was. Whatever. Sometimes, his method acting confused even Viggo himself.

***

  
Filming was going great, Billy thought with a smile, even though his two leading men were sometimes behaving strangely awkward around each other. He knew they had not seen much of each other in recent years, but they seemed to have slipped back into a close friendship almost instantly, as if they had never spent years on very different paths. And yet there were these strange hesitations between them from time to time, almost as if one or the other was suddenly, for a minute or two, unsure how to act around the other one. They hid it well and he wasn't sure if they themselves had even noticed it about each other, but to Billy, who these days spent so much time simply watching people and watching people act, it was quite apparent. Maybe they just needed to figure out how to act around each other as people playing lovers, he thought.

He was interested in how Orlando's daughter was going to change the dynamic. She'd been staying with Orlando's mother for now, to give Orlando a chance to settle things here before he brought her up to stay with him, but she was going to be here and be spending some time with him on the shoot. Who knew, Billy thought with a smile, I might even give her a small role in the movie. He grinned and made a mental note to talk to Dom and Orlando.

Five

  
Orlando was nervous. He was going to pick his daughter up soon – not that she made him nervous. He loved her, and they got along as well as one did with a six year-old girl, but he was nervous, nevertheless. To tell the truth, it puzzled him. He also did not want to analyse the feeling too deeply, for fear of what he would find it all meant. He suspected it had something to do with Viggo and the strange things Viggo was doing to his heart. Orlando knew about Henry, of course, had met him and got ten along great with him, and Viggo knew about Leah, had seen photos and everything. Orlando was quite proud of his little daughter, and one of the happiest days of his life had been the day when he had been given custody over her. Not that Kate had really wanted the child; she thought the child would slow her down too much. The whole pregnancy had been, in her terms, a mistake in the first place. Their marriage, which had not been going well before Kate got pregnant, had deteriorated rapidly during the course of her pregnancy, and they had been divorced shortly after Leah's first birthday. And, Orlando admitted to himself, Leah did slow him down, if one wanted to look at it like that. Or he allowed her to slow him down, or whatever. But he had wanted it this way. He didn't want or need to be busy all the time and loved spending time with his daughter. She was the light of his life. Time for his child was simply something he had put in his contracts these days. So what if he didn't get all the roles he might otherwise have been offered? He was quite happy to settle for less money for a role that was sometimes smaller and usually actually better, more intricate, if it allowed Leah to spend time with her father.

He had not figured out what to do about school yet, and that bothered him a bit. He didn't want her to be going to a different school every couple of months, he wanted a steady environment for her. And he did not think too much about on-set tutors either. But he still had time to figure that all out, maybe even ask Viggo what he thought.

And back with Viggo, his thoughts were. He mentally cursed himself. Why was he so nervous? Why was it so terribly important to him that the two of them got along, liked each other?

He sighed and took a deep breath. 'Because you are attracted to the guy, Bloom. Always have been. And because he's a good friend.' And Viggo was a good friend. Had been in New Zealand and was again now, had become very important to Orlando although they'd only seen each other for a couple of days now. In a way, it felt like they had not been separated from each other at all, and on a different level he daily berated himself for having allowed Viggo to slip away from him over previous years. How could he have lived a life that did not include at least weekly conversations with the crazy guy?

Whatever happened now, Orlando resolved to not loose track of Viggo after filming had finished. Not again. At least, if they came out of this whole thing as friends and all that, and he did not screw it up with his big mouth and attraction, love he felt for the guy.

The love he felt for Viggo. Of course, he loved Viggo. But Orlando knew himself well enough to know that he was also on the brink of falling in love with Viggo. Of falling hard, and falling fast - harder and faster than ever before. 'Better be careful there, Bloom!' He cautioned himself. 'Don't even know if Leah likes him, yet. Oh, I hope she likes him.'

And with that, his thoughts had come once more, full circle.

***

  
Viggo's first impression of Leah was a charming little whirlwind with the same unruly curly dark hair her father had, who raced across the set, curious to look at everything. Orlando was hanging back, allowing her to explore on her own, as long as she did not disturb work. They were in between takes and most of the crew were happy to take a minute or two to explain something to her.

She also had huge brown eyes that were looking at him out of a solemn face, he noticed with a start, when she had appeared suddenly at his side. He held out his hand to her, deliberately not to getting down on his knees, careful to try to treat her like an equal. This was Orlando's daughter, the little girl he had heard so much about already and whose good opinion was ridiculously important to him, for reasons he did not question too deeply.

"Hello, I am Viggo."

She took his hand hesitantly and answered him gravely with a serious face. "I am Leah. My dad is over there."

She pointed with her free hand and Viggo looked in the direction she was pointing, to see Orlando leaning against a trailer, in conversation with a grey-haired sound technician called Barry.

"What, Barry? The man with the grey hair? Isn't he a bit old to be your father?" He asked Leah, smiling.

She let go of his hand, giggled and shook her head at him, "Not him! The other one!"

"Ah, Orlando!" he put a relieved look on his face and a solemn nod answered him. Then she blinked up at him seriously, "Do you have children, Viggo?"

Viggo nodded. "I have a son. Henry."

"Cool! Is he here? Can I play with him?"

Viggo had to hide a laugh at this little whirlwind playing with Henry. She'd wrap him around her little finger in a second, he had no doubt of that. He shook his head: "He's not here, Leah, sorry. He's back in the United States, going to school. Well, university really."

"I'll be going to school soon, too!" She bopped up and down. "I can already write my name and my dad's name and lots of other things!"

"No, you can?"

She nodded. "Yeees. Want me to show you?"

Viggo nodded too, enchanted by this little girl who had so much of Orlando about her. "I would love that, Leah."

She giggled. "Cool! I will ask Dad for paper and draw you a picture, Viggo!"

And just like that she turned and raced off towards her father - who had been watching them both, Viggo noticed, strangely touched by it all - to pester him about pen and paper.

***

  
When Leah was safely installed at a table with lots of paper and colourful pens, and under the careful and enchanted gaze of two of the makeup girls, Orlando wandered back outside to find Viggo. Viggo was mimicking Orlando’s earlier pose, leaning against one of the trailers, watching the work around him.

Orlando leaned against the trailer next to him, close enough to be almost touching. Almost, but not quite.

"I see you've managed to charm my daughter," he stated, watching the next scene being set up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Viggo turn his head to look at him.

"I have?" Viggo asked, curious about Orlando's assessment of the situation.

Orlando grinned and met the curious gaze. "Indeed, old man! She's in there, determined to draw you the best picture she's ever drawn. And she wanted to know how one writes Viggo, too. Definitely charmed, I'd say."

Viggo released a breath he had not been aware he was holding. Orlando noticed and studied him curiously. Had Viggo been nervous? Calm, imperturbable Viggo? Orlando hid a smile. This might be a good sign, indeed.

Viggo paused for a moment and then shrugged. "What can I say? Leah's opinion of me is important. Might sound strange, but it’s true. Almost as important as the opinion her father has of me…"

He trailed off and suddenly they were both lost in each others gaze, unable to look away, a strange but pleasant feeling of falling deeper into something as yet unvoiced hovering between them.

This was not the brink of anything, Orlando realized. They were well beyond brims of any sort. There was silence between them, nothing but the gaze connecting them, and the feeling of things unspoken that should have been said long ago. It was awkward, but not too unpleasant, an pleasant awkwardness. Not unpleasant enough that it needed to be broken with an awkward laugh.

And so they stood there and simply looked at each other, and would probably have kept doing that for some time, if Billy had not called for Orlando.

The spell broken, they both blinked and smiled awkwardly.

"Seems like they are ready for you."

"Yeah," Orlando shrugged. "Best be off then. If Leah comes looking for me, can you tell her I'm on the soundstage, shooting?"

"Sure, elf boy, will do!"

Orlando smiled and quickly hurried off to the soundstage, his heart warm and fluttery with the feelings that were coalescing between them and the endearment Viggo just had used. He had not been called elf boy in ages - it had always been Viggo's name for him, his personal endearment. It was good to know that he was still elf boy to Viggo. It made it seem as if the future was still wide open between them.

***

  
Viggo leaned back against the wall, still stunned by the complex emotions that were suddenly in existence between him and Orlando. No, they'd always been there, but now they had been - what? Not acknowledged. But not pushed back, either. And to have called him elf boy…he had done it without conscious thought, the endearment slipping naturally from his lips. But the Orlando from today was so unlike the Orlando he had first met. And yet he was not. He was still his elf boy, in every way that counted. 'My elf boy...yeah, keep dreaming, Viggo!'

It was in moments like this one that he wished he had not given up smoking. He could have used a cigarette now, something to cling to while he calmed his racing thoughts.

***

  
When Orlando returned to the trailer he was sharing with Viggo, it was to find his daughter curled up on Viggo's lap, both of them deeply engrossed in one of the books Orlando had brought along for Leah. It seemed that all his anxieties about his friend and his daughter not getting along had been unfounded. They were getting along great, from what he could tell. They had not noticed him yet and he stopped inside the door, entranced by the scene of unexpected domesticity before him.

"Do the funny voice again, Viggo!" he heard his daughter implore the Dane, and Viggo laughed his soft, throaty laugh in response.

"The funny voice?" Orlando could hear the smile in the voice. "I am sure Papa Bear would be upset to hear that he has a funny voice!"

Leah giggled. "Please do it!"

"Where has all the honey gone?" Viggo said, obliging her, in a deep voice that carried traces of Billy's accent.

Leah giggled again and from where Orlando stood he could see her throw her arms around Viggo's neck to hug him.

"I don't know, Papa Bear," he went on, his voice higher and girlish, speaking the part of the bear daughter.

Leah was ruffling Viggo’s hair with her little hands and Viggo laughed again in response and sneaked a hand up to tickle her side.

Leah laughed and curled in a ball on his lap, trying to protect her sides from the assault. "That tickles!"

"Well, that's the plan, honey!" Viggo replied. Leah sneaked a hand out and poked him in the side and Viggo obliged her and laughed, too. "Ohh, that tickles, you little minx!"

"That's the plan!" Leah grinned, throwing Viggo's reply back at him.

'I wonder if he really is ticklish or if he is indulging Leah,' Orlando thought. 'How I would love to find out!'

Viggo looked to the side and noticed Orlando, a wide smile on his face. He looked - edible, Orlando thought. Kissable. Orlando yearned to be able to go over to him and kiss him breathless. He returned Viggo's gaze and something must have been in his eyes, for Viggo raised an eyebrow in question at him, still smiling.

The moment was lost, though, when Leah looked over and noticed her father standing in the doorway. She crawled off Viggo's lap and ran over to Orlando, hugging him around the waist and looking up at him. "Daddy, Daddy, you're back! We've been reading the story of Little Bear and the honey, and Viggo does the voices much better than you!"

"Does he?" Orlando asked his daughter, taking her up into his arms and looking at Viggo again.

Viggo was still grinning. He shrugged. "What can I say? Busted."

Orlando grinned at him and then returned his gaze to his daughter, "Well, if he's so much better at it, maybe he can come read your goodnight story to you tonight?"

Leah clapped her hands in delight. "Can he, Daddy? Then you can read the story together!"

Orlando looked over at Viggo again, questioningly. Viggo got up and walked over to the two of them, ruffling Leah's hair, "Of course, I can - if you two don't mind." He looked at Orlando, "We're staying in the same hotel, after all. And I don't much relish spending my evening alone. Also, we could talk through tomorrow's scenes, then?"

Orlando nodded and searched for his voice. "Good idea," he replied, sounding hoarse. Tomorrow involved a scene that would have the two of them kissing. 'Maybe we can practice tonight?' he thought and was surprised by the sudden heat and excitement that thought generated. He swallowed. What was he getting himself into?

Six

  
Orlando had asked Dom and Billy to get him one of those hotel suites that included a small kitchenette as well as two rooms and a living room, and so, after a brief conversation, they had decided to do the cooking themselves, rather than eat out. They both had had enough of restaurant cooking for a while and this way they could spend a more relaxed evening together. The plan found Leah's enthusiastic approval, especially since she got to have a voice in dinner plans - which was how Viggo found himself stirring tomato sauce in a pot while spaghetti cooked in another one. Orlando was making salad for the two of them, Leah having expressed her opinions of salad very firmly. Since she'd had a lot of vegetables with her lunch, she was allowed to have her way - and the salad now included plenty of onions and garlic. They'd shared a joke about kissing and bad breath, but decided that as long as they were both going to stink, it was fine. Being domestic with Orlando felt good, Viggo thought. They'd done all this in New Zealand, of course, frequently spending the evening together, cooking, drinking beer and watching local sports on the television. Watching sports had usually involved taking sides, he remembered with a smile, not because they had opinions on the teams, but because it made the whole evening much more fun, being able to hassle the other one about the defects of his chosen - or assigned - team. But Leah definitely brought a new level to the whole thing. Where they had been mates sharing their time off in New Zealand, it now felt almost like - family, Viggo realised with a start. And it felt incredibly good. Natural. Meant to be.

Being honest, on one level it scared the shit out of him, seeing how effortlessly they were sliding and merging together. How good it felt. Not because he didn't want it or trust Orlando, but because he knew it was only incidental and not going to last. They were only together here for a very short time, filming this movie, brought together by chance and helping friends. Another week, maybe two - then it'd all be over and he'd go back to Idaho, and Orlando and Leah would be off to - well, whatever Orlando was doing next. This couldn't last. It was like an idyll, a time away from time. Their own little island in the flow of time. And so, seeing his days and life merge so effortlessly into Orlando's scared Viggo, thrilled him and made him almost deliriously happy and giddy, too, but it also scared him.

What were they doing here? What was he playing at? This, to him, was more than friendship, that he knew. He was falling in love with Orlando. And he was falling fast.

And he had also just cut into his finger, slicing tomatoes for the sauce, he noticed. Too far away with his thoughts to pay attention to what he was doing. He swore under his breath and sucked on the offending digit.

Orlando looked up from what he was doing as he heard Viggo swear softly and drop his knife. He looked over curiously and when he saw Viggo suck at his finger he asked, concerned, "You all right, Vig?"

Viggo's reply was muffled, coming around the finger stuck in his mouth as it was. "Fine, fine. Just nicked my finger with the knife."

"Don't worry, I'll get the disinfectant and a plaster, honey," Orlando replied, already halfway to the bathroom and his supplies. Then he stopped and re-thought what he had just said. He turned around and explained, a little flushed, "I mean, Viggo. Sorry. Auto-pilot. You know? Leah is usually the one who needs a plaster."

Leah, who had been sitting at the table drawing pictures looked up at hearing her name. "I don't need a plaster, Daddy."

"No, honey. Viggo needs one."

Viggo had taken the finger out of his mouth again and was inspecting it, trying to gage how deep the cut was. As he had thought, it was barely more than a scratch and would be fine even without a plaster to cover it. He also had not been able to help smiling at what Orlando had said, and now the interaction between Leah and Orlando. Those two were cute together, there was no other word for it.

"Oh," Leah replied, looking at Viggo concerned, "Get one of the nice ones, Daddy, with the dinosaurs on it."

'Dinosaurs, huh?' Viggo thought to himself.

Orlando quickly returned from the bathroom and, sure enough, a minute later Viggo found himself graced with a band of colourful dinosaurs around his left index finger. He looked at them sceptically, and Orlando laughed. "They're special, you know? Not everyone gets a dinosaur covering their wounds and stemming the blood flow, let alone several."

Viggo raised his eyebrow, "More like squeezing the blood out of you, that would be." He tried to imagine a dinosaur standing on his finger, then winced and wished he hadn't. That would definitely not be an improvement. Shrugging and smiling wryly, he went back to dicing tomatoes and assiduously ignored Orlando's smirk.

***

  
Dinner had been nice indeed, and afterwards they had played one of Leah's card games for a while, then taken Leah off to bed, reading the goodnight stories together, funny voices and all. This had taken quite a long time, mostly because they had all laughed so much that it would have been hard for anyone to go to sleep. So, Leah had taken some time getting to sleep, too, only dozing off when they had stopped overplaying the characters in the goodnight story.

Now they were sitting together in the living room, each one cradling a bottle of beer in their hands, just enjoying the silence. It was scary how natural it had felt, taking care of Leah together with Viggo, Orlando mused. He was used to looking after Leah on his own, but having Viggo there had not felt like an intrusion at all. No, it had felt like he belonged there. Like he should always be there.

And Orlando knew that he would not be. Once this little project was over they would both be going back to their separate lives. They might be better at catching up with one another from now on, but that was all. So, he should really not become too used to having Viggo there, no matter how natural it felt. It was only going to make being apart again harder.

Orlando leaned back on the couch, letting his head come to rest against the wall. He sighed. He'd let tomorrow take care of itself and just enjoy himself for now.

They sat like that for some time, until Viggo's voice broke the silence between them, "So, shall we go through our scenes for tomorrow then?" he asked.

Orlando felt tension curl in his stomach, felt his hands go clammy at the thought. If they did that, he'd have to kiss Viggo. No, would get to kiss Viggo. Could he do that, and not reveal how much he felt for the older man, how much he wanted to kiss him for real?

'Dammit, Bloom! You're an actor, for fuck’s sake. So act!' Orlando nodded and hoped that his voice would not betray his nervousness and desire. "Sure, let's do that!"

It had come out gratifyingly nice and firm, and rather than give himself time to think about the whole thing and become more nervous, he quickly got up and went looking for his copy of the script.

Viggo did the same thing, taking his from the table next to the suite’s entrance, where he had dropped it after going back to his room to change into more comfortable clothing and drop off his stuff.

***

  
"I hate stories that are complicated!" Orlando recited and thought 'how true.' “Why can't we simply move forward to the happy ending?" he looked down at the floor, trying to appear hopeless and dejected. He felt Viggo move in behind him, felt the older man's hand come to rest on his shoulder.

The shiver that ran through him when Viggo began to speak, voice low and close to his ear, was more real than an act. "Don't worry, love."

Orlando knew what was coming next - he had read the script many times, after all, and he and Viggo had read through it just minutes before. But reading it, or doing a talk through, was very different from actually acting it out, of feeling Viggo's arms wrap around him now. 'No, not Viggo,' he thought to himself. 'That is Mike, remember? Mike. And you're Daniel. Not Orlando. So get with it!' He turned in the embrace and rested his head on Viggo-Mike’s shoulder, felt hands come to encircle him back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, blatantly using the chance to smell Viggo. He smelled good. Delicious. Of earth and herbs (from cooking, Orlando realised) and sunshine and the shower gel he used and of paint and turpentine and - of Viggo. Orlando realised that this was a scent he could come to love smelling every day, surrounding him. He felt Viggo turn his head to brush a kiss against his hair. Damn Billy and Dom, for writing such a tender scene. Damn himself for accepting to play it - no, never that, he thought fiercely. Bless Dom and Billy. He'd not have missed this moment for the world. This chance, this excuse to be close to Viggo. He'd take it, and he'd take all of it. And if that meant flubbing his lines - well, so be it. His pride in being a good actor, being well prepared, was nothing and stood no chance against the desire to be close to Viggo. If only he could keep his wayward emotions in check! And his body, he added ruefully. Down below was taking a little too much interest in proceedings for his liking.

***

  
Viggo buried his face in Orlando's hair, loving the closeness this moment was giving them. Orlando felt as good and right in his arms as he had imagined - no, he felt even better. All anticipation of this scene paled in comparison to the actual thing. He felt his heart contract in painful longing and cursed himself. He needed to get his emotions under control. He needed to remember that they were going through a scene here. He needed to stick to the script, no matter how good this felt and how much it was what he had always wanted. He needed to not let Orlando notice what was going on with his scene partner. He took a deep breath that tantalised him with the smell of Orlando - something he knew he would remember for a long time - and lifted his head, giving Orlando the clue they had agreed on for proceeding with the scene.

Orlando in turn lifted his head and leaned back until he was standing in front of Viggo, only their arms still connecting them - Viggo's still linked loosely behind the younger man's back, Orlando's resting on Viggo's shoulders. They looked into each others eyes and both took an involuntary deep breath at the intensity of the eyes looking back at them. Could it be? Dare they hope?

Both decided that it was only their wishful imaginings and the consummate skill of the other one as an actor, though, and tried to re-capture the script.

Viggo tilted his head and leaned closer. Orlando quickly followed suit, closing his eyes. Viggo felt his nose brush against Orlando's and adjusted the tilt of his head slightly. Close, so close…

Then their lips met, slowly and tenderly, just resting against each other. The script called for a 'soft, tender kiss' before the scene changed, but all thoughts of the script were lost with the electrifying contact. Orlando's lips were soft and pliant under his, the faintest hints of stubble rough against his cheek. They stayed motionless, savouring the moment, both afraid to move and end it. Both afraid of the desire they felt, the maelstrom of feelings they were on the brink of drowning in, and which they dare not reveal for fear of loosing a friend. This was only a scene, this wasn't him, Viggo reminded himself. This was Mike kissing Daniel, not Viggo kissing Orlando. Viggo would never kiss Orlando - not like this, with all the tenderness of the world in it. As a friend, yes, but not tenderly and not passionately. For that was not what it was between them. They were friends.

Then Orlando shifted slightly against him, the movement causing his lips to move against Viggo's, and Viggo realised that he either needed to end this kiss now or he would not be able to. Not be able to help his tongue coming out to tease Orlando's lips open, to probe into Orlando's mouth and tangle with Orlando's tongue, not be able to help turning this kiss so hot and passionate that he might very well come in his pants.

Mouths opening, breath panting, hot and mingled in the space between them, Orlando's tongue so warm and soft and alive against his, the silky slip-slinging of them tangling. Stumbling to the couch, hands buried under loose shirts and wrestling with the buttons of too tight jeans, arousal straining painfully against confinement, hands everywhere and the whole thing so awkward simply because they could not stop kissing, never, not for one second, no way.

No, he would not be able to stop - and he needed to stop, for both their sakes. So Viggo stepped back, out of the embrace, out of Orlando's personal space, and ran his hands through his hair, looking for something to occupy them with.

Orlando stood in front of him with a dazed look on his face, head still tilted, eyes closed and arms open, and looked so tempting that Viggo could only just keep himself from stepping back into those arms to kiss him again.

Then he righted his head, opened his eyes, blinked a couple of times and looked at Viggo with a bemused expression on his face. "Well..." he said, his voice strangely awkward and colourless in the space between them.

"Well," Viggo replied, knowing he probably sounded as awkward as Orlando had.

Orlando laughed, softly, and with that the strange air between them was broken and Viggo chucked in response.

"Not bad, my Danish friend, not bad. But I think the kiss could use some work."

"Oh?" Viggo replied, raising his eyebrow, but mentally agreeing.

"Definitely. I think we ended up more on the 'awkward' track, rather than 'soft and tender'."

Viggo nodded. "I agree, actually." 'And it means that I get to kiss you again.'

Orlando shifted, his hands toying restlessly with the ends of his shirts. He laughed a strangely strained laugh, "It's just - strange - kissing a friend like that, yeah?"

Viggo winced inwardly, but was careful not to let it show on his face. Strange was the last thing he would have called it. It was right, one of the most right things he had ever experienced. But they were only friends. It was clear that Orlando felt that way, and it would be a good thing to keep that fact very much in the forefront of his mind from now on, he sternly told himself. So, he nodded. "Yeah. Probably. And the first time I kiss anyone in a movie is always a bit - awkward. Need to get their measure, you know?"

Orlando nodded. "Exactly. So, want to try this again so we can astound Billy and Dom with out consummate skills tomorrow?"

"Kissing skills or acting skills?" he laughed and Orlando started to laugh, too, playfully shoving him. If the laughter sounded a little strained, they ignored it.


	2. Chapter 2

Seven

  
"Daddy, why are you kissing Viggo?" Leah asked her father the next day, after he had stepped of the soundstage they had been filming on. The scene between Mike and Daniel had gone well and Dom and Billy were both gratifyingly impressed with the acting skills of their leading men.

'As well they should be,' Orlando thought. Practice had been torture last night, and he had spent a sleepless night alternatively tossing and turning in his hotel bed or wanking to the memory of Viggo's lips on his, Viggo's arms resting on his back, Viggo's smell all around him. A vivid imagination was definitely sometimes more of a curse than a blessing, and the thought of what Viggo's hands and lips would feel like ghosting over his naked skin had driven him almost mad with need and longing and despair.

Orlando smiled down at Leah, "Hmm...because I like kissing Viggo?"

She smiled but then frowned. He immediately regretted his flippant reply, wondering how his daughter was taking the unplanned revelation. She astounded him with her reply, though, "But why were all those people watching you? Would you not like it better without them?"

He smiled. Indeed he would. Not that he cared who was watching. But no watchers would mean the opportunity to do things that he would be hesitant to do in public - and especially in front of Leah. Thoughts of what the skin on Viggo's neck, over his pulse point, would taste like, what his moans would sound like, invaded Orlando's mind, and he quickly turned his attention back to his daughter, who was still studying him with curious eyes. "Well...yes."

He ruffled her hair and then added, "No, honey, I was kissing Viggo because it's in the script that I should do it."

She frowned and he tried to explain, "Remember when you saw bits of that movie where I had blond hair?"

She giggled. "Yes, you looked silly!"

He smiled, "Yes, but I had to wear the blond hair because it was for the story, for the movie. And I said those things because they belonged to the story."

Leah nodded wisely. "Yes, because you are an actor. You make stories other people think of become real."

Orlando ruffled her hair again, "Yes, that's right. And Viggo is an actor, too. And we're both helping Billy and Dom to turn a story they have made up into something people can then watch in the cinema."

"Like Mary Poppins?"

"Yes, just like that. And the story has Viggo's character and my character kissing, so..."

"So, you kissed him." She smiled in delight, "But you do like kissing him, daddy? He's nice, Viggo."

"Yes, I do like kissing Viggo. He's very nice."

She nodded, "And he can draw pictures for me. And do funny voices. Can he come draw pictures with me again tonight?"

"Sure! If he wants to."

"Cool! I will ask him!" and with that she turned around and raced off, enthusiastic at the prospect of Viggo spending the evening with them again.

Orlando watched her go with a bemused expression on his face. It seemed kissing Viggo was cool with his daughter, because kissing people that were nice and drew pictures for her was all right. He smirked to himself. Strange reasoning, but he was not going to question it. No way.

***

  
"Viggo?"

Viggo looked up from the script he was studying to see Orlando's daughter standing in front of his set chair, a beseeching look in her eyes.

"Yes, Leah?"

"Dad says that you are helping him make Billy and Dom's story real, and that he likes kissing you, and will you come draw pictures with me again tonight?" she bubbled, bouncing on the balls of her feet in front of him.

Viggo, a bit overwhelmed by this mass of information, took a second to respond, which she thought was the preparation for a negative reply.

"Pleeease, Viggo?" she asked softly.

"Uh, sure. Yes...that is, if your dad does not mind," he replied, thoughts still whirling to process her earlier sentence. Orlando liked kissing him?

She bounced, excited. "No, Dad does not mind. He'll be happy! Oh, cool! I will go and tell him you said yes! We can all draw pictures together! Yay!"

She bounced in place again, then quickly threw her arms around his neck and pressed an enthusiastic and wet kiss against his cheek.

"I like kissing you, too, Viggo. Even though you tickle!"

She stood back, grinned and then raced off, throwing over her back. "I must tell Dad that!"

Viggo watched her go, now completely bemused, the one sentence still whirling though his mind. Orlando liked kissing him? What was he supposed to do with that information? In what context did it belong? Dare he hope...?

It was a long time before he remembered the script he still held in his hands.

***

  
They had spent a very pleasant evening together, munching on sandwiches and crisps while drawing pictures, sitting around the living room table. They'd moved to the floor when the table had become too small, when the picture they had been drawing had overflowed from one paper to the next and to another one and another one. Then they had run out of tape to fix it all together, which had left Leah crestfallen. Viggo had become her hero when he had taken in her disappointed face and simply called room service and asked for another roll of it. One had been located somewhere in the administrative maze of the hotel and a bemused bellboy had arrived a short while later to deliver it – a bellboy who had been instantly charmed by the small six-year-old who opened the door for him and almost hugged him in her excitement that they could now tape the forest together. That they had done, slightly messily and using a lot more tape than necessary since Leah had been in command of the dispenser.

Then she had taped Viggo's bare foot to the floor, and Orlando smiled fondly at the scenes that had ensued. Viggo had pretended to be stuck to the floor, imprisoned by Leah's cunning. He'd made huge pleading eyes at her only to grab her and drag her to the floor when she had stepped within reach, breathless with giggling at his pretended plight. A tickling match had ensued which Orlando had been content to watch from the sidelines, until called to for help by his daughter.

They'd ended up ruffled and breathless on the floor, all three of them, the forest slightly creased and bent from having been rolled on. And they had learned that, yes, they were all three of them ticklish.

After the forest had been restored to what order there still was to be had and Leah been tucked into bed, exhausted from the day and the tickling match, Viggo and Orlando had ended up next to each other on the couch, watching sport together on the television again and drinking beer, companionably sharing their personal space.

Yes, it had been the perfect evening, really, Orlando thought. But then Viggo's mere presence seemed to be enough to make his days perfect, somehow. Any day that had Viggo as part of it was a good day.

***

  
Orlando was still remembering last night, a smile transforming his face, when he arrived on set the next morning. Leah's hand held his own, and a lively conversation about the merits of the different breakfast cereals the hotel offered going on between them.

Viggo and Orlando were sitting in their trailer, makeup artists busy working on them, when Dom and Billy walked in. Viggo watched them come in and noticed the worried, uneasy looks on their faces. Concern started to rise within him. Whatever news they were bringing, judging from the look on their faces, it wasn't good. He felt the warm bubble of contentment and happiness he had been living in since last night grow slightly smaller and more transitional and rued its fleetingness. If only...he firmly shooed the thought away.

Billy's first words confirmed his bad feelings. "Guys, we have a problem," he said, perching on the makeup table. Dom nodded in confirmation, standing further back in the room.

Orlando looked up from the book he had been reading, gaze intent on Billy.

"What's wrong?" Viggo asked.

Dom sighed and replied, "The rain last night got through the warehouse roof. Some leak we had not been aware of. Set's damaged."

Viggo frowned. This could be a serious problem. He knew money was tight on this production. There might be none to rebuild it.

Orlando's voice, when he spoke, seemed to echo his concern, "Will you guys be all right?"

Billy waved his hand, "Oh, yeah, don't worry about that." Dom nodded in affirmation and added, "Yeah, nothing re-painting and some new plywood can't fix."

Viggo breathed a relieved sigh "Good. But then what...?"

Billy shrugged, "Well, we can keep filming other stuff until it's usable again, block some things forward, change the filming schedule around some, but...we can't really do any scenes with you two for a week or so. Most all that was left is to be shot on the damaged set. So, we understand if you don't want to hang around or have to go back to what you're supposed to be doing or…"

Viggo held up his hand to stop him, "Nonsense, guys."

Orlando agreed, "Idiots! What kind of friends would we be if we let you down over something like that? Nothing's on my schedule that cannot be moved back a week. Or be done in the meantime. Cunts! Low opinion you have of us!"

Billy shrugged, but then grinned, and Dom elbowed him in the side. Billy shoved back. "Guys?" Viggo asked, interrupting the impromptu shoving match.

Dom was still smiling, "We kind of thought, and hoped, you'd say something like that. But we also know you guys do have schedules, and we are not paying you for this...and all that." He shrugged.

Viggo snorted, "Yes, my painting schedule will be terribly upset by all this." Dom threw a makeup brush at him. "Cunt yourself. We know it’s your year off. Like - again! But Orlando...?"

"Like Orlando said, Orlando has nothing on his schedule that requires him to be anywhere urgently for the next two weeks." Orlando interrupted him. Then he shrugged and smiled, "Leah is here, after all. We can have a holiday!"

Viggo was unhappy with the thought of his precious time with Orlando being foreshortened so drastically, but could not help agreeing that that was a good idea. So, he smiled at him, "That's a good idea, Orli! Take her somewhere nice, away from this ruckus here, spend some quality time together."

Orlando looked over at him and frowned, "Oh, no way you're backing out on me. You're coming, too, Vig."

"But Orlando..."

"Don't ‘but Orlando’ me, and don't try to sell me some line about intruding on the father-daughter bonding. Do you seriously think Leah would like it if I left her source of huge pictures, invisible tape and bedtime stories behind?"

Viggo smiled and allowed himself to be convinced. He'd be a fool to protest, after all, when that was the last thing he wanted to do. But some small voice of conscience could not be silenced and so he added, "Ask Leah, yeah?"

Orlando grinned. "Sure. But if we ask her she might well vote for taking you home with us when this is over, too, and you'll be drawing pictures with her until she goes off to college!"

Viggo smiled and held his breath at the vision that thought conjured in his mind - moving in with Orli and Leah, sharing his life with Orli and Leah, growing old with Orlando. He felt dizzy with longing.

Some of it must have shown on his face, for Orlando was studying him with concern, "I mean...if that's all right with you, yeah? I'd understand if you don't want to spend the week with us..." he shrugged "...Leah can be quite demanding and all." He looked downcast when he ended and Viggo quickly reached over the space between their two chairs and squeezed his forearm.

"No, no, Orlando, I'd love to come. But do ask Leah, OK? I'd feel like I was intruding, otherwise."

Orlando smiled at him. "OK."

Viggo was studying Orlando and so missed the smile Billy and Dom shared with one another.

Eight

  
Leah had bounced at the process of having Viggo along for a week off, alternately bestowing enthusiastic hugs on her dad and him, and babbling excitedly about pictures and all the things they could do together. So, Viggo soon found himself sitting on the passenger seat of a comfortable rental car, with Orlando driving them into the Scottish highlands. He had volunteered to drive but had been convinced by Orlando that they'd both be happier with Orlando driving them, what with driving on the wrong - the right - side of the road at all. Viggo had been quick to agree and now conceded that Orlando had most likely been right with his assessment. Viggo really did not relish having to wrap his head around this strange way of organising traffic. He was far happier playing travel games with Leah and Orlando and to watch the scenery pass by. One of Billy's mates owned a comfortable holiday cabin in the Scottish Highlands and they'd been quick to take advantage of the offer to use it for a week, even though the weather was cold and threatened rain and snow.

The miles were passing quickly and by early afternoon they found themselves in the small village near the cabin, making a stop at a market for supplies. None of the other patrons of the small store seemed to be in the least curious as to who they were, and shopping together proved to be a lot of fun. It took a lot longer than it would have taken had either one of them gone to do it alone, but Viggo didn't rue the time at all. Any time he got to spend with Orlando and Leah was time well spent to him, no matter what they were doing. And he had definitely not enjoyed a shopping trip so much for a long time.

The first drops of rain were falling as they put the heavy bags into the car, and it turned into steady rainfall by the time they reached the cabin. Viggo dashed out of the car, relieved to find the key on a hook under the back porch like they had been promised, and ran around the house to unlock the front door. They all hurried inside to have a look at the cabin.

Comfortable had been an understatement, Viggo realised quickly. The cabin was luxurious, with a spacious kitchen, a living room with a big open fireplace, three bedrooms and a spa in the state-of-the-art bathroom. Whomever this mate of Billy's was, he knew how to live well. The cupboards in the kitchen were stocked with preserves and other foodstuff that would keep, and the freezer was full, too. Orlando offered to get their things from the car if Viggo could try to get the heating going and to make a fire in the fireplace. He was more than happy to oblige and quickly set to it, Leah watching him with curious eyes.

They made hot chocolate and sat down in front of the blazing fire, waiting for the central heating to take some of the chill out of the house. Then they went off to put their things away, Leah assigning them all bedrooms. Beds were made, things put away, and they were quickly settled in for the week.

It was maybe a little early to be making dinner when they were done, only pushing 5pm, but they had not eaten much on the road and were quite hungry. So Viggo busied himself in the kitchen while Orlando went off to help Leah shower and wash her hair. From the laughter Viggo could hear from the bathroom, it sounded like the shower had turned into a small water fight, and sure enough, when Orlando returned to the kitchen his shirt and jeans were soggy in places.

He leaned against the counter next to Viggo, content to watch the older man prepare dinner. "Leah's off to finish drying herself and put on some clothes."

Viggo studied him and gestured at Orlando's soggy shirt with the spoon he was holding, "Looks like you could use a change of clothes, too!"

Orlando laughed, "Yeah. I know I probably shouldn't indulge her so much, but..." he shrugged. "I'm all she has, yeah? So I might be a bit too lenient sometimes, trying to be both mom and dad for her."

Viggo shrugged, "Don't worry about it." He reached out to ruffle Orlando's hair, noting that some of it was damp as well. "She seems like a perfectly well rounded and mannered girl to me, if a bit on the lively side. But then, she has you as her dad..."

Orlando smiled, glad to hear Viggo's positive opinion. "So, you are saying I am lively?"

Viggo rolled his eyes playfully. "No indeed, how could I? Whatever could have given me that opinion?"

Orlando grinned and stole a slice of the carrot Viggo was cutting. "My thoughts exactly."

  
***

  
The next morning found Viggo and Leah preparing breakfast in companionable banter. Orlando was out jogging – something that had changed about Orlando, Viggo noted, along with his changed eating habits, as meat and milk products were back on the menu. When asked about it, Orlando had just laughed and said something about growing up when you became a parent. He'd also stopped smoking and seemed to generally be trying to take care of himself, Viggo was glad to note. Like going jogging in the mornings, when he could do so. Personally, Viggo could not see the appeal of running through the grey and soggy Scottish morning for half an hour and was much happier clowning around with Leah. Now, if there had been horses...

"Do you like horses, Leah?" he asked the little girl who was carefully setting the plates on the table as Viggo was handing them down from the cupboard.

She nodded, curls flying. "Yes! I love horsies! I have lots of little horsies to play with, Auntie Sam gave them to me. And Daddy sometimes goes to the zoo with me where you can pet ponies. You know, real ones. Not like the ones I have. Daddy said he had to learn to ride on horses for the film where he had the yellow hair. "

Viggo nodded, "Yes. I remember that."

"Ooh, were you there too, Viggo?"

"Yes. That's how I met your daddy, Leah."

"Did you kiss him there, too?"

Viggo smiled at the thought of Aragorn snogging Legolas, and shook his head. "No. But it would have been fun." And have made for a very different movie. The dedication between ranger and elf had certainly been tangible enough to allow for it, though the thought would probably have sent Tolkien spinning in his grave.

Leah looked at him curiously, "Do you like kissing my daddy?"

Viggo was startled, but then realised that he'd been leading right up to that question, really. Trust her to take it that way - the only way one could take it, really, not knowing the movies. He shrugged. What had she said, Orlando liked kissing him? "Well...yeah."

She clapped her hands, delighted. "Cool! Daddy liked kissing you, too."

"But, Leah, do you like me kissing your daddy?" Viggo asked her, worried about her answer but deciding to see what she would say. If this thing between him and Orlando, whatever it was, ever went anywhere, he'd definitely not want to do it against Leah's objections.

Leah thought for a moment, and then smiled "Yeah. I think it makes my daddy happy to kiss you. And I like you, Viggo."

Sometimes, being six made things a lot easier, Viggo thought ruefully. But then, why shouldn't it be that simple? Why shouldn’t happiness and affection be the deciding factors? Why was everything always so complicated?

He smiled at Leah. "Thank you. I like you too, Leah."

She hugged his leg and he scooped her up into his arms so they could hug properly. He pressed a kiss against her cheek. "And I like kissing you!" She giggled. "That tickles!"

"Oh no, does it?" He blew a raspberry against her cheek and she started laughing.

***

  
Orlando stood in the doorway – again – watching his daughter laugh in Viggo's arms as the man blew raspberries against her neck. This is becoming a pattern, he thought, flushing slightly because he had been sneaking into the house, trying to catch Viggo and Leah interacting.

"Are you making out with my daughter, old man?" he asked playfully. Viggo looked up and grinned at him, and Leah quickly scampered out of his arms to run over to Orlando, who in turn scooped her back up. "Ew, you're soggy, Daddy!" She exclaimed, curling her nose and leaning back. Orlando laughed.

"Viggo and I have been talking about horsies, Daddy."

"Have you now, darling? Has he told you about his horses?"

Leah's head whipped around so she was looking at Viggo again. "No! You have horsies, Viggo?"

Viggo, who had just been putting bread in the toaster, looked up. "Yeah."

Leah squealed and kicked her legs. Orlando set her down and mouthed 'shower' at Viggo, then walked out of the kitchen. Leah didn't notice him go, she had run over to Viggo again and was looking up at him.

"What horsies do you have? Where are they? Can we go see them?"

"Well, of course you can come see them. But they're not here, they're back home where I live, on my ranch in Idaho, you know?"

Leah giggled. "Of course, they're not here. I would have seen them. But I must tell Daddy that we can come visit you when we go home. Tell me all about them!"

Viggo set the last item they needed for breakfast from the fridge on the table, started the kettle to make tea, got the coffee maker going, and turned to Leah to begin telling her 'all about' his horses.

"Well, there's..."

They talked horses all through breakfast.

Nine

  
Viggo had fallen asleep with his head on his shoulder, Orlando realised with a start. It was early afternoon and raining again, so they had ended up in the living room, Leah playing on the hardwood floor with her toys and Viggo and Orlando each reading one of the books they had found in the cabin. Apparently, the one Viggo had decided on had not been able to keep his attention, for, as Orlando found when he turned his own head carefully to look at Viggo without waking him, his hands had come to rest in his lap, still loosely holding the book, his eyes closed and his face relaxed in sleep. Not that Orlando was able to see much from the angle he was looking down from, but Viggo did look relaxed and younger in his sleep. And strangely subdued, as well - probably because he had such expressive eyes, and since they were now closed, it seemed like something was missing from his face. Cute, it was definitely cute, Orlando thought, having Viggo lying against his shoulder sleeping. And he knew that he was not going to move for as long as possible. He sat there for a while, watching Leah and enjoying the feeling of Viggo's warmness against his side, of the pressure of his head against his shoulder.

Leah looked up from her play and glanced over at the couch, probably to tell her father something. Orlando noticed and quickly said a soft "Shh..."

She looked at him curiously, then over at Viggo. She giggled and said softly, "Daddy, Viggo is asleep on your shoulder!"

Orlando replied just as quietly, "I know, honey."

"He's cute!" Leah stated with delight.

"Cute?" Orlando asked her, bemused. He wasn't sure what Viggo would think about being called cute - and never mind the fact that Orlando had given him the same label mentally just minutes ago.

Leah's head bopped in affirmation "Cute. And so are you, Pillow-daddy!"

Leah knew that saying something like that to her dad usually resulted in being chased around the room for a tickle match, and grinned when her daddy made no motions to get up.

"Just wait until your daddy can chase you around again, miss. I see some tickles coming your way!"

Leah giggled. "Kiss him and wake him up, Daddy?"

Orlando looked at her, flabbergasted. "Kiss him to wake him up?"

Leah nodded, "Sure! You kiss me to wake up every morning!"

"That's different, Leah!" Orlando replied, feeling helpless. Not that he didn't want to, but…

"Why, Daddy?"

"Well, you're my daughter, and..."

He'd have gone on explaining, but he felt Viggo move against his shoulder, the head tilting back and a soft and sleepy voice drawl against his ear "Chicken."

He turned his head to look at Viggo, who was smirking at him. Orlando looked back, mock outraged, "Chicken? Why, old man..." Viggo's grin turned wider at Orlando's sputtering.

"Definitely chicken. All clucking, no egg."

"Ha, I'll show you no egg!"

And with that, Orlando turned on the couch, grabbed Viggo's head between his hands and swooped in to claim Viggo's lips in a bruising kiss.

Whatever Viggo had expected Orlando to do, this wasn't it. But all expectations were forgotten in the second or so it took him to realise that Orlando was kissing him, him, Viggo, not Mike. No script, no nothing. His hands came up to cradle Orlando's head and back, drawing the younger man closer, and he opened his lips under Orlando's assault. Their tongues met and both moaned into the kiss, heads moving together closer, tongues tangling.

Orlando forgot everything. Forgot what that he had originally planned to give Viggo a short and firm kiss only, forgot the awkward tilt of their heads, the fact that their position was straining his back, that Leah was on the floor watching him. Forgot everything but the fact that he was kissing Viggo and that it felt so good and so right and so incredibly hot to be kissing him, and that he wanted more and more and…

Silver laughter made them both draw away with a start, panting and looking at each other with glazed eyes. Viggo looked over Orlando's shoulder to see Leah sitting on the floor, giggling.

Orlando turned to look at his daughter, embarrassed and feeling awkward.

"That's not the way you kiss me good morning, Daddy!" she exclaimed, still laughing.

Orlando looked over at Viggo and they both laughed ruefully. Orlando shrugged, "Well, no. You have a Leah-good-morning-kiss, and that was urm, the ..."

Viggo came to his rescue "Viggo-good-morning-kiss. Which I expect to be woken up with from now on!" Viggo took a deep breath and looked over at Orlando, anxious what Orlando would say about that.

He needn't have worried, for Orlando smiled a soft smile and replied only, "Deal."

Then he shook himself, glanced at Viggo and said, “But let's discuss the details tonight, okay?"

Viggo nodded. "So, Leah, did you bring any of your toy horses with you here?"

"Yes! I will show them to you!" she raced off to her bedroom and Orlando took the moment to reach out and squeeze Viggo's hand. The relief in Viggo's eyes and the firm squeeze he got in return calmed Orlando’s racing heart and the worry in his mind.

***

  
They had not spoken about the kiss for the rest of that day, trying instead to act around each other as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, trying not to let Leah feel the tension that had suddenly sprung up between them. They'd ventured out into the cold evening to walk to a nearby farm that had a sign out saying they sold vegetables, carrying home potatoes, cauliflower and heavy, orange pumpkins they planned to turn into jack-o-lanterns. So what that it wasn't quite Halloween yet? They were there, the pumpkins were there, and that was that. It had grown dark while they walked home and they had all been freezing when they got back into the house, rueing the fact of not having taken winter clothing along to England. But then, who could have guessed they'd end up wandering through the Scottish Highlands in autumn?

Dinner had been a warm and cheerful affair, and Leah had fallen asleep quickly once Orlando had put her to bed.

Now they were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, a rigorous fire going that warmed their feet - Viggo's bare, Orlando's stuffed into thick, woollen socks. Two glasses of red wine sat on the low table along side their propped up feet. Viggo had his arm slung along the back of the couch and Orlando was leaning in, warm and welcome against Viggo’s side. They'd moved together without speaking, and funnily enough without awkwardness. Viggo hoped that that was because they were both so assured of the firmness of their friendship that they were not worrying about the outcome of the talk they needed to be having, rather than out of any false panache on their part.

He knew that he felt close to Orlando right now, had done so all through the afternoon. Whatever this thing between them was, right now it was more familiar than frightening, and he was content to sit here with Orlando and let thoughts and words come in their own time.

It was Orlando who broke the silence, sighing and leaning further against Viggo until his head came to rest on the older man's shoulder. Viggo moved his hand down until it came to cradle Orlando's shoulder, smiling at the content near-purr he got in response.

Orlando's voice was soft and quiet, introspective when it came. "The first time I had sex it was with a guy, you know? He was a mate in school. Girls scared us. Hell, sex scared us...so." He shrugged. Viggo didn't quite know what he was to do with this information or how to reply, so he made an encouraging sound low in his throat. It seemed to be enough, for Orlando went on, "First girl was in drama school. She was - intimidating. Didn't last long. But there were others. I've pretty much been playing both fields since then...more girls than boys, though, in recent years. Actually, no one much at all in recent years, But, you know, before..." he shrugged and fell silent.

Viggo squeezed his shoulder. "What I'm saying is...I know how it feels when I am attracted to someone. To a guy."

He fell silent again and they both studied the fire for a while, the silence between them still strangely unstrained.

"Me too," Viggo replied after a while. "Oh, it was girls all the way in the beginning, but since then...yeah." He paused. "So we're saying we're both comfortable with who and what we are, and not going to freak out about our sexuality?"

Orlando laughed, "You mean I’m not." He turned his head to look at Viggo, studying his profile until Viggo returned the gaze. He arched his eyebrow. "Vig, you are Mr. imperturbable. Mr. I’d-go-to-the-Academy-Awards-wearing-an 'Impeach Bush' t-shirt. Nothing fazes you, I think. Though," he laughed "it would have been truly perfect had you been barefoot."

Viggo laughed, too, but added in a more serious tone, "You're wrong, Orlando. Some things do faze me, down right scare me."

Orlando nodded. "I know. I was only teasing you. I am not trying to make light of you, Vig."

Viggo smiled at him, a wide smile that made Orlando's heart melt. "I know you're not."

Orlando grinned, "And the mushy award goes to..." They both laughed, aware that they were turning sappy.

Orlando turned back to the fire, Viggo following his lead. They were silent again.

This time it was Viggo who spoke first. "About that attraction thing..."

Orlando looked at him, "Yeah?" Viggo took a deep breath, "I think we’ve caught it."

Orlando laughed and turned, taking his feet off the coffee table and shifting so he was sitting at an angle to Viggo and able to look into his face easily. He arched an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

Viggo looked into his laughing dark eyes and grinned, "Yeah."

"Like the flu?"

"Kinda like the flu. Except that it's more slow to set in, and cannot always be cured. Only the symptoms can be alleviated for a while."

Viggo, too, had taken his feet down off the coffee table, bare soles resting against cool hardwood floor. His voice was teasing, low, seductive, and doing exciting things to Orlando's body.

Orlando moved again, this time turning on the couch and lifting his leg so he was now straddling Viggo.

"Yeah. I think I know the symptoms."

Viggo's hands came up against Orlando’s back, rubbing circles against the soft cotton shirt he was wearing. "Yeah?"

Orlando nodded. "Uh huh." His hands came up to tangle in Viggo's hair. "Fluttering stomach, shortness of breath..."

Viggo went on when Orlando paused, "…Shaking hands, soft knees, racing pulse, ..."

“…Intense excitement - and the desire to snog senseless the person who gave you the condition." He smiled.

"Seems we've infected each other, then, hmm?" Viggo was smiling, too.

"Absolutely. And about that snogging senseless thing ..."

"Yeah?" Viggo replied absently, most of his attention focussed on Orlando's mouth, which was getting closer and closer to his own. He ran his tongue against suddenly dry lips.

Orlando moaned softly under his breath when he saw Viggo's tongue peek out to moisten firm lips. Enough talking, he decided. "I am going to do it...now!"

And with that, he moved his head in until his lips came to rest against Viggo's, soft and motionless and tender for the time being.

They were both too turned on for it to stay what way for long, though. Soon Viggo was opening his mouth a bit, relaxing his lips against Orlando's, his tongue peeking out to run slowly along Orlando's bottom one. Orlando moaned into the kiss and relaxed his jaw, opened his lips, allowed Viggo's tongue to slide into his mouth. Viggo's answering moan was something he felt more than heard, something incredibly stimulating. He moved his tongue, tangling it with the older man's, the sensation sending sparks all through his body.

Viggo's right hand came up to nestle in Orlando's dark curls, the left one resting along Orlando's back, pressing the younger man close to him. This time, there was nothing to tear them out of the kiss, and they took their time exploring each other's mouths, sucking at lips, running tongues along firm rows of teeth, dueling tongues in the space between their mouths.

They broke apart only reluctantly, due to lack of air, leaning their foreheads together, panting, their breath merging in the space between them.

"Wow," Orlando said, smiling, when he had caught his breath.

Viggo smiled back, hand stroking Orlando's curls. "Indeed. Wow."

Orlando moved closer and Viggo opened his legs so Orlando’s bottom came to rest between them, knees splayed on either side of Viggo's thighs. Viggo knew that that position could not be comfortable for long, but that concern was only a fleeting thought, lost when Orlando shifted again and inadvertently pushed his half-aroused cock against Viggo's equally interested one. They both groaned at the sensation and Orlando leaned in, sweeping Viggo up into another, even hotter kiss.

This time, when they stopped, Orlando groaned. "Legs falling asleep, Vig, hang on."

Viggo grinned. "Can't have that." He took Orlando's shoulders and turned on the couch, until he was lying down, Orlando coming to rest to the side and on top of him. "Better?"

Orlando grinned, "Much better." Orlando leaned on one elbow beside him, their legs tangling, but no other part of their bodies touching. He ran his free hand along the buttons on Viggo's plaid shirt slowly, tantalisingly.

Viggo swallowed at the sensation, felt his cock grow hard. He reached up to still Orlando's hand. "Orlando?"

Orlando stopped at the serious note in Viggo's voice and studied him, concerned. "Yeah?"

"Orli...all banter aside for a moment, okay?"

Orlando nodded.

"Where are we taking this, Orlando? How far are we going?"

Orlando turned his hand so he could squeeze Viggo's fingers. "As far as we both want to?"

Viggo sighed, but then smiled. "I think that's a good enough answer. Maybe one of the best ones, even." He squeezed back, then brought his hand up to run it along Orlando's cheekbones, tenderly.

Orlando had to swallow at the emotions he saw swimming in Viggo's eyes.

"I just...we're friends, too, you and I, yeah? I don't want to lose that. To lose you. Whatever happens, lets try to come out of it all still friends?"

Orlando swallowed. "Yeah. Always friends. Whatever happens. Definitely. Let's try that."

Viggo smiled at him, "Other than that...let’s go as far as we are both comfortable?"

Orlando nodded. "Right on. And speaking of comfortable..."

"Yeah?"

"If we're done being serious..."

Viggo smiled ruefully, "Yeah,"

Orlando grinned, "I am actually pretty uncomfortable here, since there is..." he leaned down and started to kiss his way down from Viggo's brow, along his jaw line, to his neck, interspersing kisses with words "…Far. Too. Much. Space. Between. Us!"

Viggo moaned at the sensation of butterfly kisses raining onto his face, "Oh, yeah. Agreed."

He brought his arms around Orlando's back and pulled the younger man on top of him, angling his head and claiming the teasing lips with a firm kiss.

Orlando was more than willing to go along - anything that brought him closer to Viggo right now was definitely a good thing.

***

  
They spent the evening on the couch, 'making out,' as some unasked part of Orlando's brain cheerfully labelled it.

Making out with Viggo was incredibly hot and arousing and fulfilling and could make your whole heart ache with love, tenderness and affection for the guy. It was heaven. And hell, in some ways, for making out was all they did, for now, hands running up and down their bodies, sometimes dipping under clothing to caress warm skin, but not going further, by mutual consent. Both of them were reluctant to rush this, both knew that once they went further than just kissing for an evening, it was not going to be the same again, and both wanted to savour the moment. They knew they were going to go further, that wasn't in question. But right now, they were content to fill the evening with a mix of anticipation, tenderness and desire.

The fire had burned down when they finally rose from the couch, looking thoroughly ruffled and well-kissed, lips red and swollen. They both took in the appearance of the other and laughed at the sight. Orlando carded Viggo's hair back behind his ears gently, noting with a pang in his heart how much grey there was in the older man's hair now, grey that had not been there when they first met. They'd both come a long way since then, and life had not always been kind to them. He felt his heart well up with affection for the man in front of him and gathered him into a hug. "Thank you," he murmured against the warm skin of the other man's neck, felt arms come up to hold him close, to cradle him against the other man's body. Viggo didn't ask, and Orlando didn't explain, didn't feel the need to explain. Viggo understood. Maybe not everything, but then Orlando wasn't sure what he meant, either, what he felt, all he felt. But they both understood enough.

Viggo brought one hand up to run through Orlando's curls, holding the younger man closely against himself. They stood like that for a while, just enjoying the moment and the feeling of being together, until Orlando leaned back and looked at Viggo with dark, warm eyes. "Wanna come to bed with me?" he asked softly.

Viggo smiled in return, gaze warm and tender and once more taking Orlando's breath away. "Would love to. But Orlando…Leah?"

Orlando shook his head, "Sleeps longer than we do. And if not, I'll explain."

Viggo wasn't sure just what Orlando would explain to Leah, but he wasn't about to question Orlando and his relationship with his daughter.

"Okay. If you're sure?"

"Positive. Stop worrying!" Orlando brushed his thumb against the worry line on Viggo's forehead. He leaned in, gave Viggo's nose a quick peck, and raced to the bathroom door. Once there, he turned, smirked and said, "First one in the bathroom wins!"

Viggo laughed, "Cheat!" and went to his own room to change into his night clothes. He usually slept in the nude but decided to go against that for now, settling on a t-shirt and boxers in the end.

When he was finished in the bathroom and walked into Orlando's bedroom, strangely hesitant and awkward all of a sudden. He found Orlando sitting on the bed, back resting against the headboard and long legs crossed on the bed in front of him, wearing similar attire as he himself did, with an addition of the thick woollen socks.

Orlando smiled at him in greeting and patted the space next to him.

"Socks?" Viggo questioned, sitting down.

Orlando shrugged. "Can't sleep if I have cold feet. And don't want to scare you out of bed by using you as a heating pad. So, socks."

Viggo laughed, the tension between them broken. "Orlando, I hereby give you leave to use me as your heating pad whenever the fancy strikes you."

Orlando grinned and bent down to take the socks off. "Dangerous promise, Vig! You don't know how often I get cold! And where!" Viggo laughed and moved under the blankets, head resting on the pillow, arms held open in invitation to Orlando.

Orlando scooted down in bed, drew the blanket up to his chin and moved into Viggo's embrace with a content sigh, his head resting on Viggo's shoulder, arm tangling with Viggo's across their chests, one leg moving in between Viggo's.

Viggo shifted to draw Orlando closer still and murmured against his ear "You know what?"

"Hmm?"

"I look forward to finding out."

Orlando smiled and sighed a contented sigh, closed his eyes and relaxed into Viggo's sheltering warmth.

Viggo felt Orlando relax and smiled, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Orlando in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Ten

  
Sure enough, as Orlando had predicted, they were awake way before Leah.

Waking up in Viggo's arms felt incredibly good, Orlando thought - maybe even better than falling asleep in them, if that was possible. They'd moved around some through the night, which sometimes woke the other one up. But no elbows had ended up in anyone's face and no major mishaps had happened. So he labelled the night a definite success.

They were laying facing each other now, legs still entangled, arms slung over each other. Dawn light was filtering through the blinds and Viggo was still asleep. Orlando lay still, just watching the other man. He'd spent a lot of time these last days watching Viggo. Viggo in make-up, Viggo concentrating on a scene, Viggo talking to Dom and Billy, Viggo writing in his notebook, Viggo eating... And aside from Viggo and Leah interacting, this one – Viggo sleeping – was probably his favourite view, Orlando thought, because it allowed Orlando to watch the other man unobserved, to just study him, to take his time admiring and pondering the sweep of an eyebrow, the hair falling across his forehead, the long lashes that lay at the edge of his closed eyelids, the wide, so kissable mouth, the cleft in the chin, the scar across his lip Orlando so longed to lick right now. Everything. So familiar, so - beloved, Orlando thought. ‘Love…’ He tried it out, just in the stillness of his own mind, just to get a feeling of it, of the sound of it: ‘I love you, Viggo.’

He felt it settle in his heart, felt worlds shift, felt his soul breathe a relieved sigh and embrace the words. His horizons seemed to widen and everything all of a sudden seemed lighter and brighter at the admission. It felt - right. Perfect. Like it belonged to him. Like he had acknowledged something that had been there all along. He felt at peace. He felt like smiling, grinning, shouting for joy. He felt like crying with the intensity of it, the relief. The certainty. ‘I love Viggo,’ he thought again, and it still felt just as right. ‘I am in love with Viggo.’ Right. He grinned. Grinning was all he allowed himself, for laughing would have woken Viggo, and he didn't want to do that yet. He wanted to lay here and bask in the knowledge, in the love.

Then he frowned. As right as it felt, this resolved nothing except his own feelings, and it complicated a lot of other things. They were friends, right? Had they not agreed on being friends? Friends who were attracted to each other, who were going to follow that attraction as far as it felt right to both of them? Love in a non-platonic way had not entered the picture.

Taking a deep breath, steeling himself, Orlando tried another thought. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with Viggo.’ He waited, listening to the stillness inside himself. He mulled over the thought for a bit and the answer, when it came, did not surprise him, though the intensity of the reply did startle him, did take his breath away. The answer was 'YES!'

Now he did feel like crying, and not in a good way. What the hell was he going to do? If love had not mutually entered the picture, the rest of their lives definitely never had! What was he going to do now? 'Shit, Bloom. Fantastic! Falling in love with your friend. Great idea!'

He tried to brush the thoughts away. He was going to enjoy this week with Viggo, and the rest of the shoot, too. Time enough to nurse his heart, when he was back in Los Angeles and alone. He was not going to let his own foolishness spoil what time they had together.

Friends who were attracted to each other? He could do that. Yep, he could do that. Would do that! And he was going to try his damnedest to still be Viggo's friend, when their time here was over.

'Time to get with the Don't-Think-About-It-Programme, then, Bloom!' he thought to himself. He took a deep breath, then smiled and leaned in to kiss Viggo awake. Hadn't the older man asked to always be awoken with a kiss? Orlando paused, lips centimetres away from Viggo's. What had he said, exactly? ‘…Which I expect to be woken up with every morning from now on.’ Orlando took a breath, dizzy with the sudden hope and possibilities crowding his mind. ‘…Every morning from now on.’ Every morning they spent here? Or every morning as in ‘…every morning,’ ever? Orlando shook his head. Useless to ponder this now. But he felt hope lodge in his heart. 'The more fool I,' he thought to himself. And then he closed the short distance between the two of them, resolved to give Viggo a wake-up-kiss the likes of which he had never experienced. Action helped against thinking too much, after all.

***

  
Viggo awoke to warm lips pressing against his mouth and hands running up and down his chest. He blinked, remembered where he was and who he was with, and relaxed into the kiss. He moaned at the sensation of Orlando's tongue invading his mouth, at the feeling of the hands on his chest moving under his t-shirt and stroking his chest. He returned the kiss and moved his still sleep-heavy arms up, to cradle Orlando's head and caress his bare arm. Orlando moaned, too, softly and under his breath, and mischievously let the heel of one hand brush against Viggo's morning erection. Viggo groaned and opened his eyes.

Orlando moved out of the kiss and smiled at Viggo. "Good morning!"

Viggo smiled back, "That it is." He moved in, re-claiming Orlando's lips, rolling Orlando over so he came to lie on his back, Viggo on top of him. The kiss grew hot and passionate between them, and Viggo's hands were busy exploring Orlando's skin under his t-shirt. Then one of Viggo's hands moved lover, down and into Orlando's boxers, brushing against Orlando's cock. Orlando moaned.

Viggo stopped the kiss and leaned back to look at Orlando, "That okay?"

Orlando used his hands to draw Viggo's head back down again. "Hell, yeah!" he muttered against Viggo's lips, then moaned again as Viggo's hand continued its exploration.

Viggo's mouth moved to lick a path against Orlando's jaw and down his throat, pushing the loose neckline of the t-shirt out of the way with his. Viggo’s hands were still busy drawing patterns on his chest and softly stroking Orlando's cock.

Orlando's hands were moving Viggo's t-shirt up, tugging ineffectually at the material that was now bunched around Viggo's shoulders.

"Shirt...off...now," he managed to say between moans, then groaned when Viggo leaned back and Orlando lost the delicious feeling of those hands and mouth on his body.

He watched Viggo take off his shirt out of hooded eyes, then belatedly sat up to take off his own shirt, reaching out to caress Viggo's firm, taut nipples with his thumbs, splaying his hands on the deliciously furred chest. Viggo moaned at the touch and looked at Orlando with glittering eyes, his own hands starting their exploration of Orlando's chest again. Orlando, too, moaned when hands came to softly brush against his nipples, then moved lower, one coming to trace the sun tattoo on his belly. He shivered and felt his cock twitch.

Orlando leaned in to lick Viggo's nipple with his tongue, using the hand that action freed to run it along Viggo's cock through the cloth still covering it. Viggo threw his head back at the touch, stifling a moan. Orlando gently bit down and felt Viggo's cock twitch. Wanting to feel it without the intervening layer of clothing, his hand quickly dove into Viggo's loose drawers, and wrapped around the aroused shaft. Viggo moaned low in his throat and Orlando felt it through the hand still resting against Viggo's chest. Bloody hell, that was incredibly arousing!

Viggo felt like Orlando was setting him on fire. He gently pushed the younger man back until he was lying on his back again, and swooped down to lick and kiss a trail across Orlando's chest. Orlando started to keen at the sensation, a slow, steady sound that came with every exhalation. He groaned when he felt Viggo's exploring tongue reach his nipple, and almost arched off the bed when Viggo bit down gently. He did arch off the bed when Viggo's hand buried into his pants to take hold of his cock, and belatedly remembered that he still had his hand in Viggo's trousers, as well. He gave the penis he was holding a firm stroke and felt Viggo groan against his chest, which only turned him on more. He was so excited, he doubted he'd last long. Nor would Viggo, from the feel of it.

Viggo moved his hand out of Orlando's underwear and used both of them to tuck them down. Orlando quickly got the idea and shifted on the bed to help, kicking the item off once it was down his legs. Both of his hands came up to tug at Viggo's boxers in turn, and Viggo quickly took them off. They paused and moved apart slightly, to study the other. They'd seen each other naked before, of course, brief glimpses when sharing the trailer, but never like this, never aroused, and never when allowed to touch.

Viggo moved up in the bed, claiming Orlando's lips again in an urgent, open-mouthed kiss, and Orlando groaned and dragged Viggo down until he was laying on top of him.

Both moaned at the feeling of their organs touching, and Orlando panted into the kiss "Bloody hell, Vig. Not going...to last long!"

Viggo shook his head slightly and replied in a breathless voice "Me neither." Then he lowered his head into the kiss again, hands busy mapping Orlando's sides. Orlando's hands were exploring Viggo's back, then one of them went further down to explore the firm ass. He squeezed and stroked, urging Viggo to move closer. Viggo obliged and started rocking against Orlando, slowly. Orlando panted and leaned out of the kiss, looking down to see them move together, penis brushing against penis with every stoke. Viggo was leaning on his elbows left and right of his head, looking down as well.

"Damn, Orlando. That's..."

"Yeah," Orlando replied. He brought his hand around from Viggo's back to gather their cocks together, sliding up and down slowly. Both moaned.

Viggo moaned again at the sight and the sensation and leaned back in to kiss Orlando. Orlando returned the kiss urgently and quickened the pace. They were both panting, so hot, so tight, so aroused. So right.

Viggo threw his head back and came, saying Orlando's name as he did. Orlando felt him come, heard his name groaned in ecstasy, and looked up to see Viggo's face transformed by orgasm. That, and the feeling of Viggo shuddering against him was enough to send him over the edge as well, and he buried his face in Viggo's shoulder as he came to muffle his shout.

His head flopped back on the bed, limp with afterglow, and he felt Viggo settle against him bonelessly. It took a while for his breathing to slow down and for the fog to clear in his head, but when it did, Orlando looked over at Viggo with a wide and sappy grin on his face.

Tender eyes were looking back at him, and the grin was returned. Orlando rolled over and gave Viggo a sweet, languid kiss.

"That was…"

"Yeah. More than…"

They were still smiling at each other like a pair of fools, neither one caring how sappy he looked. They were also sweaty and sticky and the bed was a swamp. And they were both unaccountably happy.

It was Viggo who moved first, gently stoking a hand down Orlando's chest, leaning in for another tender kiss before he sat up. "Come on, time to get up. The bed's a mess and so are we."

Orlando nodded and sat up reluctantly. "Yeah." He leaned over again to kiss Viggo, then climbed out of the bed. "You wanna shower first and make tea and coffee, while I sort out the bed?"

Viggo nodded, "Deal."

They smiled at each other tenderly, then Viggo went to the bathroom and Orlando turned to contend with the mess that had once been a bed.

***

  
Leah had still been fast asleep when they had both finished showering, and so they had taken the opportunity to share a quiet morning sitting together in the kitchen, facing each other over steaming mugs of tea and coffee - tea in Orlando's case, coffee in Viggo's. Neither one knew quite what to say, but the silence was easy and comfortable between them.

Viggo noted that Orlando didn't quite seem to be able to stop smiling - but then, neither could he. They were both, it seemed, slightly baffled and utterly enchanted by this new thing between them. Nor could they quite help touching each other. Viggo looked down to study their clasped hands, where they lay on the rough wooden tabletop. Orlando's fingers slightly longer and paler than his own fingers were, but just as strong. Far more graceful, as well, though he knew that Orlando would probably protest that notion. And a lot less wrinkled, he noted.

He was growing old - or older at least, and he knew it. His hands showed it, too -weathered and worn as they were, with the first flecks of age showing on their backs. His hair was getting greyer every year, and his face more lined. He didn't feel old, and aside from creaking hips and sore knees his body was still in pretty good shape, but he knew he was quite a bit older than Orlando. Twenty years. Was it too many?

His musings were interrupted by Orlando squeezing his hand and making a scolding sound at him. Viggo looked up, startled, to meet the amused gaze.

"No pondering life's improbabilities, Vig. Not today?"

"Oh? Who says I was?"

"I do. The frown between your eyes does. The downcast look on your face."

"Orlando..."

Orlando's teasing voice turned serious. "What, Viggo?"

Viggo sighed and shrugged, "Have you considered that I might be too old for…this? For you?"

Orlando smiled. "Sure. And have you considered that I might be too young for you? For this?" He gestured, throwing his other arm wide and almost knocking his mug from the table, "Whatever this is?"

Viggo frowned.

Orlando looked at Viggo, now completely serious, and reached over to run his hand along his jaw line. "Viggo, I am not making fun of you, okay? Okay?" Viggo nodded, reluctantly, believing the seriousness apparent in Orlando's gaze and voice.

"I have thought about it. A little, anyway. And I do think I might be too young for you. No matter that I am older than I used to be. And all that." He shrugged, and Viggo had to smile at the logic in that statement. "But that's for you to decide, not me, okay? And I am the one who has to say if I think you are too old for me. No one else? Okay?"

Viggo nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "So...," Orlando squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, "Am I too old for you?"

Orlando grinned, "No way. Nope. No. Njet. Nein. Non. Nei. Eh-heh."

Viggo smiled back, Orlando noted with relief. "Okay, okay. Message understood, elf boy. Loud and clear."

Orlando was still grinning, but now it grew a little tentative with his next sentence "Vig, am I too young for you?"

Viggo shook his head, smiling, "Nope."

Then he blew out a breath and returned Orlando's grin.

"So, that's settled, yeah?"

Viggo nodded, "Yeah...but, Orlando?"

"What Vig?" Orlando replied, the exasperation in his voice belied by his still existent grin. He knew that Viggo was someone who needed to talk through things, and was willing to go along with that, for as long as necessary. And it was good, too - he'd rather face things now than let them pile up unspoken, so they could maybe one day come between them. Things like that happened far, far too often in life.

"Orlando...what about Leah?"

Orlando sighed. Trust Viggo to come straight to the heart of the matter, to go for the jugular. He pondered making a silly remark, but discarded the notion quickly. He sighed. "How does ‘I don't know’ sound? Haven't really had time to think about it, you know?"

Viggo nodded. "I know. This has all been kind of sudden, hasn’t it?"

"Yeah."

Viggo sighed, "Look, Orlando, I'll understand if you don’t…if Leah…" he broke off.

Orlando frowned and looked a little hurt, "I don't know for sure what you're trying to say, but if you're trying to say what I think you might be trying to say, then I am not sure I like it."

Viggo looked at him, confused, and Orlando knew that he might have overreacted.

"Vig, listen," he paused, unsure how to say this, "I might not yet know what to tell Leah, or when to tell Leah and all that, but I am not going to lie to my daughter. Maybe for a bit, yes, but not for long. Neither do I want to hide you and this - thing - between us from her. She deserves to know. And you and I deserve not to be sneaking kisses in whenever she's not in the room. "

Viggo swallowed, overwhelmed by the fierceness and conviction in Orlando's voice. "Orlando…I wasn't…that was not what I was going to suggest or say."

Orlando smiled ruefully, "Yeah. I didn't think you were, actually. Not all of that, anyway, if any of it.” He shrugged, “But I needed to say that, to make clear where I stand. I am not saying we tell Leah today or anything, but you have to know that if we keep this thing going, beyond today or this week or this month - then she needs to know."

Viggo nodded. "I wouldn't have it any other way. And, Orlando -"

"Yeah?"

"If we keep this thing going, then - I am too old to go sneaking around, Orlando. Catching planes in secret, meeting here for a week and there for a day, always hiding from cameras. I am too old for that. I don't have enough time left to go squandering so much of it, alone. I'll be happy and glad to be your lover or your fuck-buddy or whatever, but I don't want to be your guilty secret, okay?"

Orlando nodded, his heart suddenly heavy, and thoughts racing. 'But my lover, Viggo? Will you be that?’ Then he frowned, ‘But then we've not been speaking about love, have we?'

Viggo saw the sparkle go out of Orlando's eyes, his face turn serious, and sighed, thinking: 'You're a fool, Viggo, throwing it at him like that. It's not as if you've agreed to spend the rest of your life together. Hell, it's not as if he loves you!' "Just think about it, ok? That's all I ask." he finally said, his voice sounding weary.

Orlando quickly gazed up at the weariness he heard in Viggo's voice, but wasn't sure what to make of the strange expression on Viggo's face.

They sat together, strangely tense and awkward at being so close to one another, but neither one willing to be the first one to draw his hand away. So, their clasped hands still law on the table between them, almost an entity of their own. Both of them looked down to study them, wondering where the quiet happiness of the moment had gone.

It was Orlando who finally broke the silence, "It's…" he cleared his throat, "…way past nine. I'd better go wake Leah up, if we want to get started on this pumpkin carving thing before lunch."

Viggo nodded, "Yeah. I'll finish making breakfast."

Orlando let go of their clasped hands and turned to leave, "Thanks, Vig."

Viggo sat at the table for some minutes, listening to Orlando and Leah talking, and pondering the firm squeeze Orlando had given his shoulder on the way out. Thanks for what, exactly?

Sighing, he got up and opened the fridge.

Eleven

  
Leah unconsciously did a lot to ease the tension between himself and Viggo, Orlando noted. She was bubbly and bouncy and intensely interested in everything that concerned the pumpkins. With her around it was easy to forget that their conversation this morning had ended on a strangely discordant note.

Orlando wasn't quite sure how that note had gotten there, and was glad to notice Viggo smiling at him effortlessly when he looked up from the pumpkin he was hollowing out and their eyes met. Orlando grinned back and blew Viggo a kiss, to which Viggo replied with a widening smile and waggling eyebrows.

Orlando looked back down to concentrate on his own pumpkin and let his mind wander. He decided that he was simply going to take whatever Viggo offered, all that Viggo offered. If their affair - he winced at the term - never went beyond this film or beyond this week, well, then that was that. But he was going to enjoy what time together they had, and not spoil it by wishing for things that weren't going to happen. He was an actor, actors were good at make-believe. Maybe he could make himself believe for this week that Viggo loved him?

No, he shook his head. He knew that Viggo loved him. As a friend, but still. He'd just tell himself that. Viggo loved him. Loved his friend Orlando. That would just have to be enough - it was a lot more than you usually got in affairs, anyway, Orlando noted ruefully. This week was a gift, and he'd treat it as such. 'And I'll be calling myself ten times the fool when it is over.' He shrugged. Yes, he would be. But his heart was going to end up broken anyway - so he might as well enjoy the process, right? He nodded.

Right. What a stupid idea. He knew that the sensible thing would be to back out fast - but then when had he ever taken the sensible option?

And damn, his pumpkin was grinning at him mockingly! Enough black thoughts. Take what you can get. Yes, the pumpkin was definitely making fun of him.

He looked up, ruefully, "Darling, I think my pumpkin is making fun of me!"

He had addressed the comment to Leah, who was sitting on the floor attacking a pumpkin of her own with a spoon, but she ignored him. Viggo looked up, instead, he noticed, strangely pleased. 'Argh, Bloom. Remember? Take what you can get. Don't wish for the impossible!'

"Is it?"

He nodded. "Absolutely, man!"

He held it up and Leah's giggle came from where she was sitting on the floor.

Orlando looked down at her to meet her amused gaze. "You think that's funny?"

"Very funny, Daddy."

He pondered and then smiled, “Yeah, it kinda is, isn’t it?”

He shrugged, and Viggo just smiled at him and went back to working on his pumpkin.

***

  
The pumpkins, baking pumpkin pie and making pumpkin soup with their innards and then cleaning up the mess that came along with carving them, had taken most of the day. Dinner had been heavy on the pumpkin side, but enjoyable, not even Leah complaining about all the dishes that featured pumpkins. Viggo had gone outside and put the carved pumpkins up, placing them on the windowsills so that they looked inside, rather than out on the road. The result was strangely creepy, but enjoyed by all, especially when they started making faces back at the jack-o-lanterns.

Leah had opened a cupboard in the living room and found a small DVD collection, and that was how they had all come to find themselves sitting on the couch now, watching, of all things, "Beauty and the Beast" on television. Leah sat snuggled on Orlando's lap, her head leaning against her father's chest, enraptured by the movie unfolding on screen. Viggo sat close enough to Orlando so that their sides and legs were touching, and his arm resting on Orlando's shoulder.

Animated Disney movies were not Viggo's usual fare, to say the least, but he found himself quite enjoying this one - though he had to admit that a large part of that enjoyment might have to do with the fact that Orlando and Leah were sitting next to him, close enough for them all to be touching, and that both members of the Bloom household were deeply engrossed in the movie. He watched Orlando and Leah out of the corner of his eye just about as much as he actually watched to movie, and couldn't help laughing when Orlando started to sing along with Belle in the village scene.

Orlando noticed, of course, and looked over at him, a huge smile on his face and an eyebrow raised in question.

Viggo grinned back at him, "Just noticing you know the words, that's all."

Orlando leaned over and blew a raspberry against Viggo's cheek, "I remember seeing this in the cinemas. With Sam. Man, was that a cold day. And there was this woman behind us..."

"Shh, Daddy." Leah complained, interrupting her dad's story. Viggo and Orlando winked at each other, but Orlando fell silent, snuggling closer to Viggo and resting his head on his shoulder. Viggo put his arm closer around Orlando and patted his lap in invitation for Leah to rest her legs there, so she might snuggle in more comfortably. He thought she might refuse, but she only smiled at him and snuggled in closer and stretched her legs out. Viggo pulled his other arm down so it came to rest across her legs and felt Orlando blow a soft kiss against his neck. Smiling contentedly, he settled deeper into the couch and focused part of his attention on the screen again.

Yes, he could definitely come to like watching Disney movies, as long as he was watching them with both Orlando and Leah snuggled into his arms. Watching Disney movies definitely had become a lot more appealing all of a sudden.

***

  
"Well, Chip, time for you to go to bed."

"But I am not tired, Mrs. Potts!" However, like Chip, Leah spoiled her protest by adding a wide yawn to it.

"Yes, you are! Into the cupboard with you!" Orlando paused and added, "Or bedroom, really, since you're not Harry Potter..."

"Harry who, Daddy?" Leah looked at him in confusion.

"Never mind, darling. It's from a book I once read."

Viggo, who was still sitting on the couch and letting Orlando shuffle Leah off to bed, smiled at the memory. Three hobbits and an elf, sitting in the shade resting while Peter was setting up the lighting for another shot, discussing the merits and possible motives of - what had the guy's name been? - something like Snake… Snark? Snape. Yes, Snape. Harry Potter was another one of those things Viggo admitted he didn't quite get, although he knew Henry had read the books and he'd of course been well aware of the hype that came to go along with the phenomenon.

Orlando, on the other hand, had probably read them all. And would probably read them to Leah at some point. Which might mean Viggo would get to know them after all, if he read parts of them to Leah, too…

He sobered abruptly. What the hell was he thinking? Did he really think he was going to be involved in Leah's and Orlando's future closely enough to be a possible provider of bedtime stories? He shook his head at himself. Wishful thinking, that was all it was! Better be careful. That path could only lead to sorrow, imagining a future that included Orlando and Leah on a daily basis. Wasn't he old and experienced enough to know better? To realise that this little idyll away from time and the world was all he was getting of the two?

He sighed and waited for Orlando to come back from putting Leah to bed, intending to not let the worries of the future spoil what little time he was getting with the two of them.

***

  
Leah snuggled comfortably in bed. Orlando sat down on the side of it and gently stroked her curls - so much like his own - away from her face.

"Did you have a good day, sweetie?"

She nodded against the pillow. "Yes, Daddy! The pumpkins were fun!" She yawned again and snuggled closer into the blankets.

Orlando stroked her head again and then got up. "Night, sweetie. Sleep well. I love you!"

"Love you too, Daddy!"

Orlando walked to the door and went out, leaving on the small night light he took wherever they went, so Leah would not find complete darkness, if she woke up during the night. He gently closed the door behind himself and walked back to the living room, where Viggo still sat on the couch.

He looked strangely diminished somehow, Orlando thought. Unhappy. Older than Orlando remembered. But then, he was. They were both older than he remembered them to be, than they were in his memory. He only had to look at Leah to know how much he himself had changed, but somehow Viggo always was Viggo in his mind, always the picture of the man he had first met in New Zealand. Viggo was outside of time, somehow, to Orlando. Or had been. Someone who was always going to be there, still and always his friend, no matter how long the time was in which they did not speak.

So, seeing Viggo now and becoming aware of the fact that Viggo might not always be there made him start and a cold feeling washed over him. He quickly pushed the thought and the shiver away, concentrating instead on the slight frown on Viggo's face. He wondered what had put it there, what dark thought was occupying Viggo’s mind.

'No time like the present to find out, Bloom,' he thought to himself and walked over to the couch, sitting down next to Viggo and turning to face him, drawing his legs up until they came to rest across Viggo's, similar to the position Leah had occupied earlier.

Viggo's head turned and he smiled at Orlando, quibbling, "What am I? The footrest for weary Blooms?"

Orlando smiled at him and stoked Viggo's hair back behind his ear, kissing him softly on the cheek and snuggling against him. "I could think of worse jobs…" he replied, a smile in his voice.

"Yeah," Viggo agreed gruffly, hugging Orlando close to his side, his hand drawing patterns on Orlando's back. “Actually, so could I.”

They sat in silence for a while, until Orlando asked, his voice serious, "Are you okay, Vig?"

Viggo looked at him, curious what had brought this on. "Yeah. I'm good. Why?"

Orlando shrugged and studied Viggo's face, "You looked very serious and a bit worried when I came back, that's all. So I wondered..." he shrugged again and trailed off.

Viggo leaned in and placed a quick kiss on the tip of Orlando's nose, "Yeah. Nothing bad. Just, I don't know - feeling the passing of the years. My own mortality. The future walking close, too close for comfort. Stuff like that."

Orlando hugged him close and wished he had the right - or the courage - to do far more than that. To tell Viggo that it was all right and that they'd always be together and that he'd look after him and - but, he didn't. He sighed softly. "I get you," he replied, slightly at a loss as to what to say. "If there's anything I can do...listen... you know? Anything!"

"Thanks, but...nah. It's all right. Just random thoughts and stuff. Nothing worth wasting time on now."

"Hmm...want me to take your mind off it, then?" Orlando asked, mischievously. If Viggo didn't want to talk about it, maybe that'd be something he'd enjoy. Orlando knew that he'd definitely enjoy trying to take Viggo's mind of any dark or unhappy thoughts.

"Oh, yeah? How would you propose to do that, then?" Orlando heard the warmth in Viggo's voice, and smiled to himself. Sounded like Viggo was interested. He leaned in closer. "Well, I could..." he began to whisper in Viggo's ear, moving one of his legs slightly so it brushed against Viggo's groin. He felt a stirring there in response and smiled to himself. Yes, seemed like Viggo was definitely interested!

Twelve

  
The next morning was only just dawning when Viggo felt Orlando touch his shoulder softly. "Viggo?"

"Hmm...?" he murmured sleepily.

"Leah is up. I'm getting up, too, to make her something to eat."

"Hmm, ‘kay," he replied sleepily, registering what Orlando was telling him but not feeling quite awake enough to reply sensibly.

He heard the smile in Orlando's voice when he leaned in to brush a soft kiss on his lips, "See you later, sleepyhead."

Viggo heard retreating footsteps and then the door close and snuggled closer into the blankets, quickly falling back asleep.

***

  
Orlando softly sneaked out of the room and went to find Leah. He found her in the kitchen standing in front of the opened fridge, head cocked to the side, pondering the contents.

Orlando yawned. It was too early to be up. He'd much rather still be in bed, snuggling under warm blankets, than standing barefoot on the cold kitchen tiles. But Leah was up and had made it quite clear that she expected her daddy to get up, as well.

"So, now that you've dragged me out of bed, what would you like to have for breakfast, sweetie?"

"Can you make pancakes, Daddy?"

"Pancakes, huh? Let's see. . ."

He walked over to Leah and studied the contents of the fridge. Looked good.

"Yes, we can make pancakes. But you'll have to help me, okay?"

"Sure, Daddy!" Leah nodded, excited. She loved to be involved in cooking, Orlando well knew. Cooking with her was about twice as much work as when he did it on its own, but definitely worth the time and effort spent on it. Hell, everything he did with his daughter was well worth the time spent.

"Let me go get some socks on first, though, okay? And you'd better get some more clothing on, too, if you don't want to get sick, sweetie."

Leah pouted, but nodded, so they both quickly went off to get more clothing on, Orlando sneaking into his room quietly to not wake Viggo up.

Orlando had already started when Leah returned. He pulled a chair over so she could climb onto it and reach the bowl of batter on the kitchen counter more easily. She quickly scrambled up and he gave her the flour to put into the bowl. They worked together for a while, then Leah scrambled onto the counter, sitting on it and swinging her legs next to where Orlando was making the pancakes on the stove. He'd switched the oven on to a low setting and put each finished pancake onto a plate he had put in there, piling them up so they were kept warm and could all be eaten together.

He was on the third pancake, Leah watching him attentively, when she asked him in a low voice, "Why is Viggo sleeping in your room, Daddy?"

"Oh, sweetie," Orlando looked at her, at a loss for what to say. He'd said to Viggo that he was not prepared to lie to his daughter, and he wasn't, but he had not, never wanted her to find out like this.

He had not thought, he berated himself. Letting his passion and need for Viggo carry him away and not given a thought to what Leah would think if she found them together. Or, he had thought about it, he corrected himself, but pushed it away. He and Viggo had so little time together and he'd allowed his selfish need to overrule his duties, his responsibilities as a father. And now Leah had him pinned.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" Leah asked, and Orlando realised with a start that he'd been standing there, staring into space, ignoring her question and the pancake in front of him, which he quickly flipped and only just caught short of burning.

He shook his head and reached over to ruffle Leah's hair reassuringly, "Nothing, sweetie." He put the pancake in the oven and poured some oil into the pan for the next one, quickly adding some batter. He'd not start lying now, Orlando decided. For better or worse, this was it. He only hoped he'd find some way to explain.

"Viggo and I…he was in my room because…" he trailed off, at a loss as to what to say, despite his good intentions. He sighed and quickly switched the heat under the pan off, drawing the pan away from the hot part of the stove to rest on one of the cool parts. He'd need not to be distracted for this.

He took a step to the side so he was standing in front of Leah, looked into her curious eyes and said, "I am going to be telling you something now that might be difficult or strange, okay?"

She nodded, looking worried now, "Are you okay, Daddy? Am I in trouble?"

Orlando smiled, "No, sweetie, you are not in trouble. And I am okay. I am great." He felt his smile widen. He was, he realised. He was worried as hell about telling Leah, but he was also glad that she would know, that it was not something he was keeping from her any more. If only she took it well. If only he knew how to tell her!

Leah smiled back, seeming to be relieved that everything was okay. "So, what is difficult, Daddy?"

Orlando smiled again. What wasn't? "You saw Viggo and me sleeping in my bed when you came to wake me up, yeah?"

She nodded, "Yes! I woke up and I was bored and hungry and I thought I would wake you up so we could have breakfast."

Orlando nodded. "I heard you come in." Another thing about being a father, he noted to himself. He could sleep through thunderstorms and at parties, but he somehow always knew when Leah needed him. He'd noticed her standing beside the bed. He wondered if it had been the same for Viggo, back when Henry was young, if it was the same for all parents…He quickly dragged his thoughts back to the topic at hand.

"Viggo and I . . . " Well, here goes nothing, Orlando thought. Might as well go for broke.

"Do you remember your friend Tim from kindergarten?"

Leah nodded, "Yes! He's nice. He let me play with his train!"

"He had two daddies right?"

Leah nodded again, more slowly this time, "Yes. And no mom. Well, he did have a mom but she was living somewhere else and he is living with his two daddies." She paused and looked at Orlando, her eyes growing wide, "Is Viggo my new daddy?"

Orlando shrugged. What to say now? "I don't know. Yes and no. Maybe." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He was making a mess of this.

"Maybe? Daddy?" Her voice was growing small and confused and tears were gathering in her eyes.

Orlando saw it and quickly took her into his arms. "Shh, sweetie." He swallowed. Leah came first. Leah had to come first. He swallowed again. "Only if you want him to be, sweetie."

He drew back to look at her. She was looking back at him, confused now. "Only if I want him to be?"

Orlando nodded, "Yes. It's like . . ." he paused and winced at what he was going to compare Viggo to, ". . . when we got you Munchie? We both had to decide that, yeah?"

Leah giggled, “But Munchie is a guinea pig, Daddy. "

Orlando had to laugh, too. It really was an absurd comparison, "Well, yeah. But we both decided, yeah? This is the same." He shrugged.

Leah fell silent for a minute and thought it over. "Will he come live with us?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him yet. I wanted to know what you think before I ask him."

"I don't know, Daddy," she looked worried again.

"Shh, sweetie, that's all right." He shrugged, "I don't quite know either. Just think about it for a while, yeah?"

Leah nodded. "Okay, Daddy. I will."

Orlando smiled at her, "You sure, sweetie? You okay? We can go home if you want to."

Leah shook her head. "I am sure, Daddy. We're going to see the horsies today, remember? We're not going home before I see the horsies here. You promised."

"I know. I just wanted to . . ."

She shook her head. "No, Daddy. Horsies! I will think about Viggo becoming my other daddy."

Orlando nodded. "Okay." He turned the stove back on to finish making the pancakes. "No rush, sweetie." Yes, there was. He wanted to know now! He wanted her to say yes! Not that it meant Viggo would be interested, but if she said no, then . . . Orlando sighed. No rush. Right. Sure. Hello, ulcer! He flipped the pancake over.

Leah hopped down from the counter and started to put the things they might need for breakfast on the table. Orlando quickly got the dishes and mugs down from the shelf for her and put them on the counter, so she could reach them and carry them over to the table. He also put tea and coffee on, asked Leah what she would like to drink and when the answer was: "Hot chocolate, please, Daddy!" He put some milk in a mug and the mug in the microwave to heat up.

Orlando finished the last pancake and turned to Leah. "Shall I go ask Viggo if he wants breakfast?"

Leah giggled. "My maybe-other-daddy? Yes!"

Orlando smiled at her, "Right. Your maybe-other-daddy," he decided to take Leah's giggling about it as a good sign, "But let’s not call him that, yeah? It's our secret for now, okay?"

Leah loved keeping a secret, Orlando knew, and was proven right when Leah nodded excited. "Yes, Daddy! He will have no idea!"

'No idea, indeed.' Orlando thought, both amused and saddened by the thought. "I will go wake him up, then."

"Yes, Daddy!"


	4. Chapter 4

Thirteen

  
The rest of the days in the cabin passed much the same as the others had, with the three of them spending the day together and Orlando and Viggo spending the night wrapped in each others arms. Both of them were pleased, astounded and worried by how easily they all seemed to fit together, and increasingly aware of the future looming ahead of them. It made the days and nights all the more intense and tender, and moments alone all the more bitter and lonely, with a keen awareness of what life alone would be like after this.

***

  
The morning of the last day of their stay in the cottage found Viggo and Leah once again in the kitchen making breakfast together, and Orlando out to do something for his constitution. Dom and Billy had called to say they were about ready to resume the scenes Viggo and Orlando still had to do, and so the three of them were going to go back to early the next day, to be on set for some preliminary talk-through in the late afternoon.

Viggo rued that time had passed so quickly. It seemed like he had only had time to blink once or twice since they had gotten here, time had gone by so fast. He was going to miss this.

"So, what would you like to have for breakfast, Leah?" he asked the girl that was sitting on the table, her legs dangling in ever changing patterns. She was studying him intently, a slight frown on her face.

"Leah? " he asked again when she didn't answer. "Are you okay?"

She smiled "Yes. Viggo?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

She paused and seemed to ponder her question, finally asking, "You said you have a son, Viggo."

Viggo smiled, "Yeah. He's called Henry. "

"I know! Why is he not here?"

Viggo smiled, "He's at university, busy studying, Leah. I would have loved to bring him with me, to spend some time with him . . ." he trailed off, then continued, "But he has classes and stuff to go to and could not come. But I will see him when we go home. I am looking forward to that."

Leah nodded. "How old is he?"

"He's 26."

"Oh," Leah frowned.

"Oh?" Viggo asked, curious what this was all about.

"Do you think he would like me?" Leah asked in a small voice.

Viggo smiled, "Henry would adore you, Leah."

"Are you sure? Why?"

"Yes, I am absolutely sure. Why? Well, let's see..." Viggo smiled and raised a hand and held his fingers spread out in front of Leah, counting them off as he talked, "For one, he always wanted to have a little sister, but it never happened . . . two, he and your dad get along quite well and Henry's been wanting to meet you since you were born . . . three, let's see . . . you like horses. Now, see, Henry has a pony he's become too big to ride anymore, and it needs someone to ride it and look after it, and he's been trying to find someone who will help him with it . . ." He was stretching the truth a bit here, Viggo realised, but, well, old Prancer was still at the ranch and had been Henry’s pony when Henry was a lot younger.

Leah interrupted him, "A pony? Really?"

Viggo nodded, "Really. Four . . . "

Leah giggled. "Okay! I would like to meet Henry, Viggo."

"I am sure he would like to meet you too. Maybe he can come down when you come visit me and the horses, yeah? If you are still coming?"

Leah nodded. "Of course! Daddy promised me!"

They were silent for a while, Viggo setting the table around Leah and Leah still watching him.

"Do you like me, Viggo?" Leah asked next, her voice small again.

Viggo looked at her and tousled her hair, sweeping her up in a hug when she looked at him uncertainly, "Like you? I love you, kitten!"

"Really?" Leah asked in a small voice against his shoulder.

"Really really. Your daddy is a very lucky man, he gets to see you all the time and spend time with you."

"Will you come see me and Daddy when we go back home?"

Viggo ruffled her hair and stepped back, "As much as your dad will let me," he smiled. "He might throw me out of the house at some point."

Leah giggled, "No he will not. Daddy likes you!"

"Yeah?" Viggo asked, and when Leah nodded enthusiastically he added, "Good. I really like your daddy, too!"

Leah smiled at him and after a while asked, changing the topic. "What does Henry call you?"

"Hmm ... you mean like you call Orlando Daddy?"

"Yes."

Viggo laughed, "Well, that depends. Father when he is angry with me, otherwise mostly Dad or Far."

"Far?"

Viggo nodded, "Yes. You see, my dad was from a country called Denmark and so I can speak Danish, and so can Henry. A lot of my family still lives in Denmark. And far is the Danish word for dad."

Leah nodded, "Ah. Far. Cool!"

Leah pondered that for a while, then asked "Viiiiggo?"

"Yes, Leah?"

"Can I learn to speak Danish, too?"

Viggo smiled at her, "Of course you can, if you'd like. But it will take a long time."

"Can I start now?"

"Now?" Viggo looked at her, astonished at her interest. He'd thought it more of a general question.

Leah nodded and pointed to a piece of cheese, "What's that called?"

"Cheese is called ost in Danish."

"Ost."

She pointed to a newspaper and Viggo dutifully replied, "Avisen."

Other objects in the kitchen were next and when Orlando returned he found Leah and Viggo sitting at the breakfast table and alternately pointing at things. He raised and eyebrow at Viggo in question and Viggo only shrugged, his expression somewhere between rueful and amused.

"Leah?" Orlando questioned.

"I am learning Danish, Daddy!" Leah smiled.

"Ah, Danish, I see..." Orlando replied, though he really didn't. "But why?"

Leah shook her head at him disconsolately, as if the answer was obvious, "Because Viggo and Henry speak Danish, Daddy, and I want to speak it too!"

Orlando smiled and chalked this up as definitely a good sign, "Ah! So, what have you learned?"

Leah replied by pointing to things and telling him their Danish names. With some of them she had to look to Viggo for help, but a lot she remembered on her own.

Orlando was impressed. He hadn't been gone that long, after all. Her memory was good - something he discovered all over again every time they played memory games together.

Viggo was smiling at her, too, "Very good, Leah!"

Orlando sat down at the table, poured himself a mug of tea and grinned ruefully, "Would you mind starting at the beginning again? I clearly need to catch up here, otherwise you two will be able to talk about me behind my back and I will have no idea what you are saying!"

Viggo grinned at him and raised one eyebrow, "And how do you know we haven't already done that while you were out?"

Orlando leaned over and hit Viggo on the arm playfully. Leah giggled and started to tell her dad all the words she had picked up so far.

***

  
Once again they found themselves in front of the fire in the evening, sitting close together on the couch, Leah off in bed, sleeping.

"Vig?"

"Yeah?" Viggo replied lazily, his hand carding through Orlando's hair in small, calming moves. Orlando snuggled closer to him on the couch and said softly, "I just wanted to say - I really enjoyed this, Vig. This week together."

"Yeah. Me too."

They fell silent for a while, then Orlando said softly, "So, back to the real world tomorrow."

"Back to the real world, yes." Viggo sighed and Orlando echoed it: "Still, it will be good to finish the movie, I think. I am looking forward to what Billy and Dom are going to do with it - and what our story will turn out like."

'What out story will turn out like . . .' Viggo knew Orlando was talking about the script, the last pages neither one of them had yet seen, but thought to himself that he'd really like to know what their, what his and Orlando's story, was going to turn out like, too.

"Yeah." He only replied, then added after a bit of silence, "It's going to make quite the splash, one way or another."

He felt Orlando nod against his shoulder, "Definitely. I hope they get it all together and it works out for them."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the logs burn in the fireplace and contemplating the future and the movie.

"Sooo, Vig?" Orlando asked, his voice teasing, Viggo noted warily. Orlando in a teasing mood was something to be handled warily.

"Yes?"

Orlando turned to face him and grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "I hear they are planning a screening at Cannes, if it all works out?"

"I know."

"Remember Cannes?"

"Of course, I do," and how could he have forgotten, Viggo thought to himself. Cannes and the screening of ‘Lord of the Rings,’ where they had all been so happy to see each other again, and been clowning around on the red carpet. Orlando with his short hair. That had been a good day.

"You going to snog me again on a red carpet, filthy human? It's a tradition, you know." Orlando asked, clearly teasing him, using his old nickname.

"Is it now, elf-boy?" he asked, teasing back.

"Uh huh," Orlando nodded, "definitely."

"Well, I'll have to see what I can do, then. I am sure we can get away with a quick peck or two. It's a tradition, after all."

Orlando nodded, "Exactly."

He turned back to watch the fire again. Viggo contemplated what the hell had just happened. Had they agreed on a quick smooch between friends? That's the only thing they could do, really, anything else would engender a lot more reactions and have consequences for both their lives. And that was not something they were contemplating. They weren't even together, no way could they, even jokingly, be considering anything that remotely smacked of coming out. But then, they did play a gay couple. And he just knew that someone was going to ask him what kissing Orlando Bloom felt like. If only they knew...

  
He smiled to himself. He'd enjoy leading them all by their noses. Oh, yes, he would. And he knew Orlando would, too. Orlando's streak for mischief was not exactly small, after all. If they were still comfortable with one another once the premiere came around, it was going to be a lot of fun. He resolutely pushed away thoughts of Orlando being embarrassed by what had happened between them and distancing himself from Viggo. He was not going to spoil what might be their last night together as lovers with worries about the future. He was going to make the most of the short time remaining.

"So, elf-boy?"

"Yeah?" Orlando turned to him, smiling.

"Want to practice that friendly snog thing?"

Orlando looked at him, trying to look askance but spoiling it by smiling, "No way, man. I want to snog you in a manner that is far more than friendly."

"Oh, yeah? How's that work then?" Viggo teased him.

"Too much talking, filthy human." Orlando replied and leaned in, sealing his lips to Viggo's and starting what quickly turned into a heated and urgent kiss that was decidedly more than friendly and set the tone for the rest of the night.

Fourteen

  
Being back on set was strange, Orlando thought. Not that he and Viggo had been overtly demonstrative to each other while they were away, due to Leah being there, but right now he felt really constrained in his interactions with Viggo. He felt like there were always eyes on them, judging them, and he was always faintly uneasy. He knew it showed, and he was afraid that Viggo was misinterpreting the cause and going to draw away from him, thinking Orlando was regretting the last week. He also knew he was probably being silly, but he did not know how to stop himself from acting this way, or from worrying. He needed to talk to Viggo. Soon. Before Viggo really got him wrong, or before he fretted himself senseless.

Viggo was aware that something was worrying Orlando, that something was off between them, but he was unable to tell quite what it was. Orlando seemed to always be double checking himself, and his gestures were strangely aborted. He tried not to worry, but something was off, he felt that. And yet, when Orlando was not trying to check himself, his smile was as warm and gentle as ever, and his eyes still shone with affection. So, Viggo brushed the worries away, determined to be as natural as possible around Orlando and to ask him about it as soon as they got back to the privacy of the hotel in the evening.

Billy and Dom were still hedging with the final pages of the script, saying that they wanted the scene tomorrow done first before they resolved the mystery. Orlando understood their reasoning, but at the same time thought it might be a bit demeaning to their skill as actors, saying they wanted them to play the parting scene between Mike and Daniel without them knowing if the two were going to see each other again. Orlando was not looking forward to playing an argument scene with Viggo. Too much was unsaid between them and the possibility of parting without saying the important things seemed all too real to him, too close to home.

The talk through on set went by quickly on the re-painted set, and all too soon Orlando found himself heading back to the hotel with Viggo and Leah.

"Want to come have dinner with us, Vig?" he asked before they parted ways in the elevator.

"You sure? Don't you want to have some family time together?" Viggo asked.

Orlando and Leah looked at each other and then both shook their heads.

"All right then. Give me time to chance and shower and I'll be all yours. We probably should go through tomorrow's scene as well, Orlando, yeah?"

Orlando nodded unenthusiastically. He was not looking forward to spending an evening fighting with Viggo, acting though it would be. But they should look into it, Viggo was quite right with that assessment.

***

  
Dinner had been good. Playing with Leah had been fun. Sharing time with Viggo was wonderful as always. And now he was standing here, across the room from him, and exchanging harsh and angry whispers with him. Tomorrow some of it would be shouts, but they did not want to wake Leah up, hence the whispering. Not that it hurt any less for that, Orlando thought. 'It's Daniel. Daniel fighting with Mike. Not you fighting with Viggo. Acting. Actor? Remember?' He brought his attention back to the scene.

"And I will not tolerate your lying any longer. If you can't have me in your life openly, then don't have me in your life at all! I am not going to be pushed around by your whims!" Viggo was whispering, angrily.

Orlando looked at him pleadingly, "But Mike, listen."

"No. Not any more. Are you going to say anything you have not said before?"

Mutely, dejectedly, Orlando shook his head.

Viggo sighed, "I didn't think so." He turned to the door and Orlando watched him go, mutely. He wanted to call out to him, to keep him, but the script said he remained silent, and so all he did was raise his hand mutely, as if the hold Viggo back. Viggo didn't see and walked out the door without looking back.

Orlando slumped onto the couch and whispered "Well, goodbye then, Mike." with a bitter laugh.

After a moment Viggo's head appeared in the doorframe. "What do you think?"

Orlando shrugged, "I don't know. I hate it. I think it's a good scene. I am glad you didn't really throw the glass against the wall."

Viggo laughed and walked over, to sit down next to him. "Yeah, the hotel would not have liked that. Plus, it would have woken up Leah."

Orlando smiled, "Yeah. And we'd have gotten a reputation for destroying my room. Hey - want to throw the TV out of the window?"

Viggo laughed, "I might have been around when that was cool, but I'll have you know I never was in that crowd."

Orlando laughed, "Can't really see you doing it, either."

Viggo was studying him, intent on the tenseness Orlando radiated.

"Hey. You okay?"

Orlando shrugged, "Yeah. I'm just - I don't think we should be fighting, Viggo. We weren't made for it. I know it isn't us, but it's just not comfortable, you know? Fighting with you."

Viggo nodded, "Yeah. The scene was good, though. Intense."

"Yeah. And it's good for the movie. And we're going to nail it. But after we have, I don't want to be fighting with you again, not even acting."

Viggo smiled at him and ruffled his hair, "Deal."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Or at least, should we fight at some point, let’s promise we won't leave out the good makeup sex, right?"

Orlando laughed, "Absolutely. Shame there's none in the movie."

"Who knows? Maybe not yet."

"Right . . . " Orlando's voice turned seductive. "So, you want to practice that? Just in case?"

Viggo chuckled and leaned in, "Oh, absolutely."

***

  
They'd been filming the fighting scene all day. Orlando was emotionally drained, at the end of his rope. They were doing some close up reaction shots of Viggo right now, and while Orlando was not needed for them he had come along, speaking his lines off screen to give Viggo something and someone to react to, rather than looking into the empty space beside the cameraman.

Orlando was thinking what he had been thinking a lot while they'd been doing this movie together - Viggo was good. Viggo was darned good. He'd known that when they'd been shooting Rings together, too, but back then he had been kind of overwhelmed by everything, and had not yet developed a discerning eye to judge the quality of his co-stars. Experience had given him a better feeling for that, and he definitely was appreciating the mettle Viggo showed. Though watching Viggo's heart break over and over at something Orlando’s character said was gruelling.

He was getting more and more afraid that life was going to follow along the same lines - what the hell had they been doing, screwing around like that? How the hell could he have thought that having Viggo for a little while was going to be enough for him? That he would not come to resent him for having broken his heart, unknowingly though it was? How the hell was he going to live without Viggo in his life, as his lover and beloved? And yet, how the hell could he risk their friendship by telling Viggo that? He'd rather have him as a friend, than not at all.

"Fuck it. This is useless. I'm going." he said again, at the clue from the cameraman. And watched the light leave Viggo's eyes, and the hope fade.

Shit. Shit. Shit. This was all useless, indeed. Fuck it all.

At long last, Billy was happy with the scenes and the lighting and everything, and they were free to retreat to their trailer while the set was changed. Orlando was glad that Billy's assistant had volunteered to take care of Leah for the day, he would not have had the energy to be her usual cheerful dad right now. He slumped onto the couch and watched Viggo silently pace the room, trying to leave Mike's headspace.

After a while Billy entered the room, smiling widely, "That was great, guys. Thank you!"

Orlando wanted to be cheerful and tease Billy about how he should have expected nothing less, but didn't have the heart for it. So, he only nodded and sighed, "Yeah."

Viggo stopped his pacing and sat down in his makeup chair, swivelling it so he was facing Billy and Orlando.

Billy nodded to Orlando, "I know it's been a tough day, guys, and I appreciate how exhausted you must be. We only need to do the final scene of the fight now, then you're free to go."

Orlando sighed. "All right."

"I'll have makeup in to touch you both up, and then we're ready whenever you two are. If you feel confident with the scene, we'll start shooting right away and I'll only have you do it once if everything works, ok?"

"Right."

"Thank you, Billy."

***

  
Everything had worked, and so Orlando had only had to watch Viggo walk out of his life once. Something he was sincerely thankful for. He walked into the trailer and, seeing that it was deserted, leaned against the wall next to the door, slowly sinking down it and covering his face with his hands, leaning his elbows on his drawn-up knees.

It hadn't even been for real, and it had hurt like hell. How the hell was he going to get through this for real, once Viggo went back home and they both went back to their separate lives? He was doomed, doomed. That's what he was.

He shook his head and got to his feet again, wearily. Viggo had been kept by Billy to talk about something. There was no telling how long he would be, and if there was something Orlando did not want, it was anyone finding him sitting on the trailer floor, hugging his knees like a frightened child. He sighed and slumped down into his makeup chair, mutely staring at himself in the mirror, his face all shadows and planes in the rough light.

He heard the door open and turned his head to watch Viggo enter the room, a weary look on his face. "Hell, that was intense," he muttered, and Orlando laughed roughly in return, "Yeah."

Viggo walked into the room slowly, coming to stand behind Orlando's chair. They looked at each other in the mirror for a while, until Viggo finally asked, "Would you mind hugging me for a bit, elf-boy? I feel heart-sore."

Orlando was out of his chair and in Viggo's arms in a flash, and they stood there for a long while, just holding each other tightly. Orlando was amazed that Viggo had just asked so openly for something he, too, had been yearning for, but had been hesitant to put into words, feeling silly for letting the scene affect himself that much. It was exactly what they both needed, of course, and he started to feel better almost instantly, felt the tension and loneliness left over from the scene fade away. He sighed against Viggo's shoulder. "Thank you." He both felt and heard Viggo's answering chuckle. They stood there like that for a while, both just basking in the feeling of being held in strong arms and slowly unwinding, until a knock at the door caused them to step away from each other reluctantly.

"Come in," Viggo called, and Billy and Dom entered the room, both smiling broadly.

"That was great, guys! Thanks!" Billy enthused, hugging both Viggo and Orlando. Dom nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. We've just looked at the dailies and it's fabulous. You guys really owned that scene, made it yours, you know?"

Orlando smiled, wishing to himself that he could have done the scene without feeling reminded of his real life all too much, of the complications and futures that might be heading his way soon. He glanced at Viggo, wanting to read his face, but Viggo was looking at Billy.

"So, guys, finished with the script, yet? Come to tell us our happy ending?" Orlando asked, his voice teasing.

Billy and Dom quickly glanced at each other, and Billy made a motion to indicate that Dom should say whatever there was to say. They both looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Orlando quickly sobered. It didn't look as if a happy ending was in the offing, somehow.

Dom shrugged, "Yeah, actually, we have. But - this was the last scene for you guys. Sorry."

Orlando didn't know how to feel. On the one hand he could see their storyline ending there, but on the other hand he'd really hoped for resolution of some sort. "So, that's it? Just like that?"

Billy nodded, "Yeah. We decided on it while you guys were away, but didn't want to tell you. It's not that we don't want to give you more screen time or anything, but we both feel that Mike and Daniel's story really works better without a resolution."

Viggo was nodding thoughtfully, "I can see that. Yeah. Realistically, there's nothing more there for those two, and any sort of ending would downplay the conflict and weaknesses of the characters."

Billy was nodding, "Exactly. We want people to be left thinking about this."

Dom was looking at Orlando, "Orlando?"

Orlando shrugged, "I don't know, man. I see your point, and I think I agree, but I also feel - cheated, you know? I know that not everyone gets one, but - I am a believer in happy endings."

Viggo was looking at him with eyes that were sadder than the situation warranted, Orlando thought, when he replied, "No, not everyone gets a happy ending."

"I agree that these guys probably wouldn't have the courage to work it all out, to stick to it. Don't mind me, guys. I'm just an old sap."

Billy laughed and playfully punched Orlando in the arm, breaking the sombre mood. "Are you ever. I remember movie nights when you got to choose, my friend!"

Orlando laughed, too, "Well, you have to admit that it was better than Elijah's nights of gore and horror!"

"God, yeah. I still have nightmares of being trapped in one of his movie nights from time to time."

By now they were all laughing. Dom had been another victim of Elijah's taste in movies and Viggo, while not a regular participant of those movie nights, had been told more than enough about them to be able to join in the banter.

"So, we’re done here?" Orlando asked after a spate of sharing memories.

Billy nodded, "Yes, you're done. We've looked at all the footage of both of you while you were away, and if we don't notice anything off with these scenes we did today while re-watching them tonight, then you're done. And you both have our most utterly sincere thanks."

"Yes, definitely," Dom agreed and Viggo and Orlando looked at each other, slightly embarrassed by the vehement enthusiasm.

"Anytime, guys. You know that, right?" Viggo told them, and Orlando nodded.

"Yeah, you have my number. It was good to be part of this."

"Yes, guys, it was fun. Be in touch, send over a rough cut or something, and if you need anything else, call. And be in touch about the premiere!"

Dom laughed at Viggo's mock admonishment. "Oh, no fear. We absolutely will. We're going to be calling so much, you'll wish we didn't have your number."

"Good."

"Do that," both Viggo and Orlando told them, and a strange silence fell. Neither one of them had expected to be done so suddenly.

"Listen, guys, we'll see you later at the hotel, yeah? Gotta get back to work!" Dom said, and Billy nodded.

Viggo just waved his hand in agreement and Orlando smiled, "Sure."

Once they were gone he flopped down in his makeup chair, swivelling around in it, his long legs drawn up so not to drag on the floor or bump into the makeup chair.

Viggo sat down in his own chair, settling on leaning back in it, "So, Orlando, any plans for the unexpected freedom?"

Orlando paused his spinning when he came to face Viggo, "I don't know yet, man. I'll have to talk to Leah. Think I might head down to see my mum and sister for a couple of days, before we need to go back to the States."

"Sounds good."

"What about you?" Orlando asked, curious. He wanted to ask Viggo to spend the time with him, but didn't know how, or if Viggo would want to.

"I don't know. Go home, maybe. Spend the time in Idaho on the farm?"

They both fell silent, all that they had not said suddenly a wall between them. Neither one of them wanted to presume too much on what was officially only a friendship that took them to the same bed, sometimes.

"You'll come down see me when you're back in the States, yeah?" Viggo finally asked.

Orlando nodded, "Absolutely! Leah would have my head if we didn't. You know how crazy she's about horses."

Viggo laughed. "I think about half the Danish words she asked for had to do with them."

Orlando grinned, "That's Leah for you."

"Let's get out of these clothes and the makeup and head over to the hotel?"

"Sounds like a plan, Vig. We can make more plans there."

Fifteen

  
They hadn't, of course, Orlando reflected ruefully. Leah had occupied him for a while once they got back, wanting to tell him all about her day, and then Billy and Dom had shown up, computer in tow, and wanted to show them all the stuff they had so far.

Both Viggo and Orlando had been curious, and so they'd spent the evening after Leah had gone to bed looking at what some the movie looked like so far.

Orlando had called his family and been enthusiastically told to come and stay for a couple of days, and Viggo had called his agent to tell her about the changes in his schedule and the free days he now had, only to be told that the offer of an art showing had come in from some Japanese gallery owners, and that they were in Los Angeles at the moment and very keen to meet with him before they went back to Japan. So, he'd shrugged and told her to book him a flight for late in the next day, knowing Orlando was going down to London, too, and that way they could travel together.

They'd spent the night in each others’ arms without even talking about maybe not doing so, and the morning and the ride in the car had passed in harmony and laughter. Billy and Dom had offered to get them a driver, but they had declined, preferring to spend the time together without curious - if discrete - eyes watching them. Orlando had once again been driving, and Viggo keeping both him and Leah busy laughing and playing road games and things. Time had passed quickly and all too soon they'd been caught by the traffic jam that was London, and then been on the way to Heathrow Airport - of course without anything having been said, no plans made, and neither one of them knowing where they stood with each other. 'Typical,' Orlando thought. He'd worried and fretted all the way down to London, all the time last night, last week, whenever he'd not been busy doing other things, and what had he done? Nothing.

Viggo had looked pensive and occupied from time-to-time, too, and he knew, he just knew they needed to talk about this, before it became a monster that shared their life with them, which they both had to pretend wasn't there.

Only, he didn't know what to do. He hadn't talked to Leah and had promised her he'd not do anything she didn't want. He didn't know at all how Viggo felt, and he had no idea if he was ready to face what all of this might mean for his, for their, future.

So, Orlando was basically stuck, and Heathrow was already showing on the roadway signs. He felt like hammering his head onto the steering wheel, like shouting or tearing his hair out. He didn't do anything of it, though. He concentrated on the traffic and laughed with Viggo and Leah.

***

  
Viggo was tense, uneasy. Orlando's attention wavered and his laughter seemed forced, and Viggo was at a loss as to how to prevent their relationship deteriorating from this point on. He didn't know how Orlando felt and then there was Leah to consider, and he was not sure if he had the courage to tell Orlando that he meant a lot more to him than just a friend who was also a good fuck-buddy when they were both in the mood for it. Not that they had done any of that, he thought. They'd not yet progressed that far, and he now wondered if they ever would, if Orlando would still be his friend a year from now. A fine mess they'd made, he'd made, not talking to Orlando. It felt like he was in a movie, and a bad one at that. Not one Orlando would like. Not one with a happy ending. But one where the characters were too cowardly to speak up, too afraid of the consequences, of rejection. Was he still Mike and Orlando still Daniel, and they still in Billy and Dom's movie?

He looked at Orlando, hands too tense on the steering wheel, face too white, and then looked at Leah in the rear view mirror, who had started to frown vaguely at the sudden silence that had fallen. He caught her eye and smiled at her in the mirror and she smiled back, but he still felt tense. The mood in the car had suddenly shifted, and not for the better. He sighed.

"Orlando, can we stop at the next gas station?"

"Sure. But your plane . . ."

". . . doesn't leave for another five hours. And the rental company won't be happy if I have an accident on their seat."

Orlando laughed. "You've got it, man. Road station stop coming up."

***

  
When they drew up to the station, Viggo wondered if there had ever been a less romantic setting to speak one's heart. The sky was overcast and grey, the air chilly and the wind unpleasantly cold, and the station had a decidedly squalid and run-down look, had definitely seen better days.

They all got out of the car and to the toilet, Viggo standing guard outside the ladies room after they'd verified it was empty, to stop anyone from walking into Orlando in there. Viggo had been glad that Henry was a boy, suddenly, for going to the toilet with him to help had never been a problem. But the men’s loo here was not something Orlando wanted to subject Leah to. Thankfully, the only woman Viggo encountered was pleasant enough about it and they had started a conversation about how there should be parent and child toilets by the time Orlando and Leah came back out. She also did not recognise either one of them, a fact for which he was even more grateful. Neither did the station service man, and after they had bought some chocolate, they were quickly on the way to the car again. Viggo stopped Orlando after he had settled Leah in the back, facing him in the brisk blustery wind and the cold air.

"Orlando - wait." He put his hand on his arm, squeezing faintly.

Orlando looked at him, suddenly curious and intense, "Yes?"

"I . . . " Viggo was at a loss for words. He took a deep breath, then mentally changed gears, suddenly unable and unwilling to say what he had planed to say. This was not the place or the time. But then, was there going to be another one? Was he going to get another chance at saying this? He decided on following the middle ground.

"How far does your sister live from Heathrow?"

Orlando frowned, confused by the question and trying to calculate the distance. "About 30 minutes or so. Why?"

Viggo shrugged and made a helpless gesture with his hands, "I . . . I need, I want to talk to you about something. Before I go off to the States and we slip away from each other and don't see each other again until the premiere, and suddenly find ourselves with too many unspoken things between us."

Orlando studied Viggo, closely, the nervous look on his face and the awkward swallow that followed his hesitant sentence. 'He's nervous,' Orlando realised with a start. 'Scared, I'd say, even.' What could Viggo be wanting to say to him so badly? Was this good, or bad? Was he going to tell him that this was a one-time thing between them, that he didn't want to see Orlando again? Or only as a friend? Or… Orlando felt hope well up inside of him and resolutely pushed it down, along with the fear. Neither one would do him any good.

Viggo was studying him, watching the thoughts trace themselves across Orlando's face, shine in the dark eyes, expression flickering with his thoughts. The one he finally settled on was something between terrified, nervous and hopeful, with little indication as to what emotions prompted them. Viggo hoped he was not making a mistake, not going to lose Orlando's friendship over this. But then, was friendship going to be possible, even if Orlando let him down gently? Was it not going to hurt too much, to see him and not be able to touch him? To know that his love was not wanted? He swallowed again. No, better to have spoken his mind, opened his heart, than keep it silent and always wonder about the would-have-beens and the could-have-beens and the should-have-dones. Regret over lost chances was harder to take than a clear answer, one way or another. Or, so he told himself. Plus, it was too late to back out now. Orlando was still studying him, he realised. He cleared his throat, awkwardly, "So?"

Orlando had been studying Viggo in turn, watched the worried frown appear between his eyebrows. He though he'd burst if he had to wait until Sam was there to look after Leah - plus she'd be poking and prodding him until she knew the whole story, and much that he loved here, he wasn't sure he could deal with that. Especially if what Viggo was going to tell him was not what Orlando wanted to hear.

"So . . . I could call Sam, but . . . " he made a quick decision, deciding that whatever it was, he wanted to hear it now, right here, on this shabby run down petrol station next to the motorway, not in an airline lounge or toilet or car park or whatever at the airport. Now being the deciding factor, really. ". . . wait a sec, okay?"

Viggo nodded mutely, curious what Orlando was going to do.

Orlando stepped up to the car and opened Leah's door, leaning in to where she had been watching the two of them curiously.

"You okay in there, darling?" he asked her when the door opened.

She'd been listening to her Discman and now took one of the earplugs out of her ear to hear him, smiling, "Sure, Daddy. I am listening to the CD you bought me in the station."

"Is it good so far?"

She nodded, excitedly.

"Listen, Leah - Viggo and I need to talk about something. Will you be okay in here for a while, while we go over there to the bench," he gestured towards one of the wooden camping tables at the side of the parking lot, "to sit down and talk for a bit? You'll be able to see us all the time, and if you need something, just open the window and shout?"

"Sure, Daddy!"

"Okay. Thank you, poppet." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, then closed the door and turned to Viggo, "You heard?"

Viggo nodded, "Why here?"

Orlando shrugged, "More private. No chance I drive us off the road worrying what you might want to tell me. And I'd rather not involve my sister. She's too curious by half."

Viggo smiled, "Okay. And it's nothing bad. I hope. I mean, for me it isn't, but . . ." he trailed off. It might be for Orlando, after all. Unwelcome news. He started to feel cold all over.

Orlando saw the frown on Viggo's forehead re-appear and took his hand, almost dragging him to the benches at the side of the parking lot. He turned to wave to Leah, making sure that she had a clear view of them, and then turned to Viggo, his head tilted in question.

Viggo sighed. This was it then, for better or worse. The moment of truth. The moment his next years, hell, the rest of his life, hinged on. He took a deep breath, "Orlando . . . I . . . let's not let life imitate art, okay?"

"Let's not let life imitate art?" Orlando asked, hair blown around his face by the wind, a confused look on his face.

Viggo shook his head, "No. What I mean is - this is not a movie. We don't need to leave things unsaid until they cannot be said anymore."

Orlando was starting to smile, Viggo noted, and he was nodding, "Until it takes a miracle and some incredible coincidences for things to work out, you mean?"

Viggo nodded, "Yes. We've been in too many of those. I don't need that kind of excitement."

He saw Orlando beginning to frown and backtracked mentally, wincing when he saw that his words could be understood differently from how he had meant them. Orlando was looking down at his feet and Viggo quickly raised a hand to lift his chin, so their eyes met again. He smiled at Orlando and gently stroked his hair out of Orlando's face, letting it rest on his shoulder once he was done, "What I am trying to say is…" He took another deep breath and looked into Orlando's eyes, drawing courage and resolution from the steadfast, unwavering - hopeful? - gaze.

"I think we could have a happy ending, you and I and Leah and Henry and the horses and everything and everyone. It won't be easy and it might not work out at all, but I'd like to try. You're more to me than a good friend to have a romp in bed with. Much more." He swallowed and studied Orlando, afraid of what he would see.

But Orlando was smiling at him and brought his hand up to entangle with Viggo’s, bringing it down until he could hold it between their bodies. He was smiling and his eyes were starting to shine with what Viggo though, hoped, might be happiness. He took another deep breath and said what he had been wanting to say for days, "I love you, Orlando."

The smiled that now transformed Orlando's face had definitely been worth the feeling of stepping over a cliff he had felt moments before, Viggo decided. That was about all he had time to think before Orlando was almost smothering him with an enthusiastic hug.

"Yes. Me too. This last week - I've been . . . I love you, Viggo, as a friend, as more . . . I think . . . I've been falling in love with you." Orlando whispered against his ear.

Viggo smiled and tightly Orlando's hand. "Oh, thank god. I love you, Orlando. Oh, how I love you." He leaned back a little and quickly kissed Orlando on the lips, conscious of where they were and of Leah in the car, watching them curiously.

He tried to step back, but Orlando was having none of it. Instead, he brought his hands up so they were cradling Viggo's face between them, and leaned in to kiss him - deeply, enthusiastically and passionately.

Viggo cradled Orlando's face between his own hands and drew back reluctantly, just enough to be able to speak, "Orlando?"

"Yeah?"

"Leah?"

He felt Orlando smile against him more than he saw it, "Knows enough not to worry. Now let me kiss you properly, okay?"

"Yeah." Viggo leaned in, smiling widely, and resumed the kiss. If Orlando didn't care where they were and who might see them, hell, neither did he.

How long they stood there, hugging and kissing and whispering words of love to each other, neither one of them knew,

Finally Orlando drew back and took Viggo's hands in his, "I hate to say this, but…"

Viggo sighed, "I have a plane to catch. And a son to talk to."

Orlando nodded, "And I have to talk to Leah. And stuff."

Viggo nodded, "Yeah."

"Yeah."

"So . . . ."

"So . . . ."

"So, I love you and don't want to let you go, now or ever, but I will drive you to the airport so you can catch a plane." Orlando sighed.

Viggo smiled and ran his hand down the side of Orlando's face softly, "Yeah. And I love you and don't want to go and expect to have a message on my answering machine when I get home, letting me know when your plane will land in Idaho next week."

Orlando was smiling, too, now, and rather sappily, Viggo noted. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

They stood there, smiling at each other, both reluctant to draw away, feeling like they could stay looking into each others eyes forever.

Finally, Viggo drew away. "Let's go, elf boy."

Orlando laughed and turned, "Right, king of men. We hear and obey."

Viggo chuckled and punched Orlando in the arm, smiling, still giddy with happiness. From the grin Orlando was sporting, he wasn't far behind.

They parted when they got to the car, both getting in on their respective sides. Leah took the headphones down and looked at both of them curiously.

"Daddy?"

Orlando smiled at her, "Everything's fine, darling. What do you say about visiting Viggo and his horses next week?"

Leah bounced in her seat, "Yes! Oh, cool!"

Viggo smiled at her, then looked back at Orlando, still smiling and mouthed 'I love you' across the distance between them.

Orlando smiled back at him and blew him a kiss. Then he turned his head to face the road and started the car.

They hadn't really sorted anything out, not yet, but he felt confident, happy, elated. Between him and Viggo, there wasn't much that they could not outnumber or overcome. He felt light-hearted, better than he had in months. This felt right. He felt right.

Epilogue

  
The flight had gone by in a blur, caught between the euphoria of being in love with Orlando and the heartbreak of parting from him. The elation and happiness far outweighed the pain of separation, though. He felt good, plain and simple. They both knew that the obstacle course was probably only just beginning, but he knew that they'd be able to see it through, together. He wasn't too worried what Henry would say - Henry by now knew just what a wild card his father was, and Henry liked Orlando. His family would come round, too - probably once his mother saw Leah, if not before, he admitted ruefully to himself. No, he wasn't too worried about any of that.

He was tired when he got out of the cab, paid the driver and unlocked his front door, dropping his luggage in the hallway. The answering machine was blinking, telling him he had six new messages. He pressed the button that allowed him to skip right to the last one, and smiled when he heard Orlando's voice.

"I love you. I miss you like crazy. Leah and I will be landing in Boise at 11:40 AM next Thursday. Mom and Sam say welcome to the family and you need to come meet them soon, or else . . . have I said that I love you? I do, you know? Leah says hello. I'll see you soon. Hope your meetings go well. I love you. And I look forward to kissing you in Cannes."

Viggo smiled. Who knew? Then he picked up the phone to call Henry and let him know he was back, and that there was something…someone…important he had to tell him about.

Yes, the future looked good.

  
\---------------

  
THE END


End file.
